


Middle Ground

by sweetums



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Body Worship, Bottom Louis, Consensual Somnophilia, Crossdressing, Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, Family Issues, Fluff, Hate to Love, Hurt/Comfort, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Smut, Sub Louis, Teasing, Top Harry, Virgin Louis, Younger Louis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-20
Updated: 2018-12-20
Packaged: 2019-09-23 00:42:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 23,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17070260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweetums/pseuds/sweetums
Summary: It’s like all week, Harry is a normal person. Him and Louis don’t know each other, don’t acknowledge each other but if they did, it would be with disdain. Then on Sundays, they gravitate towards each other without fail.Harry moves to a new town for work where he meets the enigma that is Louis Tomlinson.





	Middle Ground

**Author's Note:**

  * For [twoghostsmolls](https://archiveofourown.org/users/twoghostsmolls/gifts).



> Based on the prompt: Where Louis and Harry hate eachother for 6 days of the week, Sunday’s being their day off when they sit next to eachother at the back of their church... they just can’t help themselves.
> 
> Hi! I don't really have that much to say except that I hope you enjoy this fic. I chose the prompt because it's the one I could see turning into a story and also, a nice smutty one at that lol. There's a whole lot of smut in this so if you're into that, you're in for a treat. Please read the tags beforehand!
> 
> I don't allow translations or reposts of any kind.

Harry is carrying a heavy box down the halls when he’s suddenly hit by a figure, sending both him and over a hundred sheets of music flying. Just his luck that he was so close to his destination as well, literally on the doorstep of his uncle’s office.

He snaps out of the momentary daze from having his arse land on solid tiles and looks up to see the body that his bumped into. It’s a slight one, drowning in a huge, black hoodie then squeezed into a dark pair of skinny jeans. When Harry’s eyes reach the other boy’s blue pair, he sees an apologetic look, almost like he’s about to say sorry and try to help, before it disappears when a group of guys wander over.

“Oi, Tommo, you done talking to that prick? I swear he’s got you in there every day, man,” one of them says. The other boys snicker.

“Uh, yeah, I’m done,” says the boy who Harry was analysing seconds ago, ‘Tommo’ apparently.

A quiet beat follows when everyone in that hallway registers the out of place mess surrounding them. Harry realises it’s weird to just sit there so he quickly starts to gather up his paper, hoping that the others will leave, and he can get on with his afternoon.

“We’re going to the skate park, come on.”

Thankfully, they do just leave as expected so Harry continues picking up his mess. For some reason, he does look up briefly and surprisingly, he meets those blue eyes for a second time that day. The boy looked back.

But surely enough, he speedily looks away again. Harry decides to brush it off and hasten his gathering pace. It takes another minute or so but once he’s done, he stands upright to knock on the door in front of him.

“Come in.”

Harry turns the knob and walks into the awaiting room. It’s a fairly plain office space and accommodates his uncle on a seat behind the large wooden desk.

“Hi, Uncle Paul. Just came in to get the keys for the music room,” Harry greets him, putting the box down on the carpeted floor. “You alright?”

“Yeah, yeah, fine. But talking to that bloody boy put me in a right mood. I swear, he needs to buck up his ideas,” Paul replies, muttering his complaints agitatedly.

“Who? That boy that just left here?” Harry asks.

“God, yes. I hope you didn’t have to talk to him. He’s a pain to me and this school. Dealing with him makes me regret becoming the principle of a sixth form college,” Paul says.

“Why, what’s he done?”

“What hasn’t he bloody done? Louis Tomlinson is a no-good chav who’ll never amount to anything,” Paul grits out.

“Bit harsh if he’s just a kid.” Harry grimaces.

“He’s eighteen. Which is good because that means we’ll be shot of him soon with any luck. Unless he fails his exams, but I doubt he’ll have the nerve to come back.” Paul shakes his head before blinking his eyes up to look at Harry properly. “Sorry, enough about that. Let’s get you your key so that you can start teaching, eh?”

Paul smiles at him then proceeds to rummage through his desk drawers.

“Yeah, that’ll be good, thanks. My first student’s tomorrow but I thought I’d get in there now since I haven’t seen the room for a few weeks.”

“No problem,” Paul mumbles, still looking around for the key. He ceases frowning when he spots it. “Aha, here it is. Enjoy, Harry. Make sure you leave it nice and tidy for tomorrow, but you know all that.”

Harry accepts the key with a polite smile.

“Thanks, Uncle Paul. And I will.”

He gives a small nod of farewell then grabs his box of sheet music from the floor before leaving the office.

-

Harry had only just finished university last year. With a brand spanking new music degree and desperation to not be in school for another second, there weren’t a lot of viable options. That’s why he was so grateful that his uncle came around for dinner one night in October because by that point, he had been lazing around his mum’s house for months and getting far too comfortable doing it.

The idea was to teach people instruments. Harry has been playing the guitar for most of his life and the instrument featured prominently in his degree. He can also play the piano so that automatically doubled his potential clientele. This way, he could get proper work experience in music without further qualifications.

Obviously, he couldn’t operate a business out of his poor mum’s house and a random place would require rent and extra resources. Uncle Paul jumped in with the offer of his college’s music room after regular school hours and Harry was sold. It did mean a move away from Holmes Chapel but the short distance was worth it for a chance at progress in his career and to be honest, his life in general.

All of that brought Harry to a new town, a small studio flat and four people keen to learn how to play the guitar.

-

For the next two weeks or so, Harry does his best to settle into a new routine. He’d spend his days making up lesson plans at his flat then driver over to the college at around 4pm for his sessions. Thankfully, he has great students varying from a ten-year-old girl all the way up to a stay at home mum looking to pick up a new skill. Sure, it gets a little bit dull after a few days considering his short hours and lack of friends in the area, but he’ll just have to get used to it.

He at least has his uncle around. Having said that, he does have a family of his own, so Harry limits the amount of acceptances he gives in response to dinner invitations in fear of being bothersome. When he has the free time, he’ll pop by to Paul’s office before or after his music lessons for a chat. His uncle is nearing sixty, so his interests don’t exactly match Harry’s and any talk about the college goes over his head. It does, however, always remind him of that boy he ran into on his first day.

Probably out of sheer boredom, Harry has developed a mild fascination with one Louis Tomlinson. It was born out of that miniscule interaction with the sheet music and grew from Harry seeing him constantly.

The college’s car park is right next to its smoking area which is a bench with an awning roof above acting as shelter. That patch, apparently, is Louis’ resident hangout.

He’s almost always there when Harry arrives for his lessons. The boy surrounds himself with a group of rough looking lads and unrelenting fumes from chain smoking, dressed in sweats and adorning mussed hair. He’s also very loud and boisterous, swearing and laughing and soaking up all the attention.

Harry can’t help but feel disdain towards him. Mostly, it’s because of his uncle’s unsavoury words about Louis, but he’s also created the impression that the boy is bad news. He just seems determined to run riot and throw his life away in favour of being rude and rebellious and Harry’s met a million of him in his lifetime. Louis is no different from the plethora of self-sabotaging troublemakers and it means nothing that Harry’s eyes keep meeting his over that parking lot gate.

-

Harry’s making his way out of the college building towards his car one evening when he spots commotion in the corner of his eye. He turns towards it, squinting to see better, and realises it’s a few boys spray painting a brick wall of the science department. He rolls his eyes because it’s immature and unnecessarily destructive. He doesn’t work for the college, so he has no real authority but thinking on his feet, he reckons he can just walk over and scare them off with the assumption that he’s a member of staff.

So, he starts to steadily pace over, slightly annoyed that he’s going to be late home but feeling it’s his responsibility now that he’s seen the situation. As he gets closer, he immediately recognises Louis with a can of paint in his hands and a hood over his head, doing very little to disguise his identity.

Harry is more than a metre away when a majority of the boys notice him and start to disperse. He says majority because Louis is still standing there, spraying away casually. There’s no way that he hasn’t seen Harry come over and a few of the others were exclaiming stuff like ‘shit’, ‘fuck’ and ‘there’s someone coming’.

Harry becomes annoyingly curious as to why Louis is still here, being the only one still here at that, and before he knows it, he’s standing right next to him, watching the finishing touches being added to the large penis splayed on the wall.

Harry clears his throat. “You can’t do that here.”

Louis ignores him, spritzing blue paint out of the can.

“Look, mate, you need to stop. This is vandalism.”

Louis scoffs.

Harry sighs, looking upwards for some strength, then carefully grabs Louis’ arm to turn him around and to stop him from adding more damage. When Louis faces him, there’s challenge in his squinting blue eyes and his pouty lips press together as he glares at Harry.

“Piss off,” he tells him, scowling.

“I can’t. You’re vandalising this property, so I can’t very well leave you to have at it,” Harry protests.

“Oh yeah? And how are you gonna stop me?” Louis raises his eyebrow and cocks his head.

Harry gives him a hard look, still not quite believing the cheek of him for standing there and fighting with Harry even though he’s been caught red handed.

“Listen, I’m going to the front desk to let them know what you and your friends have been doing. It’s up to you if you want to stay here any longer.”

Harry turns around as soon as he’s finished talking to go and do exactly what he just said he will.

The receptionist, bless her, looks tired and irritated by the news. She tells Harry to lead her to the wall and on the way, Harry can almost hear her prayers for the mess to be minimal. When they reach it, Louis is nowhere to be seen but the lovely art work he left behind is unmissable.

“Bastards,” the receptionist mutters upon seeing the huge eyesore gracing the college’s building.

She thanks Harry for letting her know then pulls out her phone to call someone to come clean it up.

Harry gives the wall one last look, taking in the stupid phallic graffiti, but then notices a little scribble that wasn’t there before. He leans in to inspect it and bites back his laughter.

“Fuck you, Curly.”

-

It’s kind of a given that Harry has to tell the college who was responsible for the graffiti. He considers not doing it but to be honest, he owes Louis no loyalties and he feels bad lying to his uncle. He also wishes he knew who the other boys were because then they can all share the blame. But seeing as he doesn’t, he knows that Louis will get it worse since it will seem like he’s the only one behind it.

Why is he thinking about this so much? Since he’s arrived here, it’s alarming how much Louis has taken up space in his mind and the other boy doesn’t even know Harry’s name. He chalks it up to having literally nobody else to interact with.

Then again, there’s not exactly a steady stream of people in Harry’s day to day path who are viable friends. He’s at the college after hours and has four students. Befriending his students is not a professional option and even if it was, Harry isn’t keen to do it. He’s just finished teaching a fourteen-year-old goth the basic chords while feeling as if the lad was more interested in holding a guitar to look cool. Let’s just say he wouldn’t be Harry’s first choice in acquaintances.

As he’s leaving for home through the corridor, he nears Paul’s office just as Louis is leaving it. This is an awkward moment but there’s no escaping it unfortunately.

While passing him, Louis mutters “Snitch,” under his breath.

Harry rolls his eyes because the boy is not only a little menace, he’s apparently also a drama queen.

-

Maybe Harry has accidentally started a feud because two days later, he comes out of a lesson to find Louis trashing his car in the parking lot.

“For fucksake, mate,” Harry groans. He’s walked over to the car where Louis is throwing toilet paper and what looks to be powdered paint all over it. He also has what looks to be chalk in his hands and there are a few choice words written around the vehicle that are suspiciously white.

Louis, as expected, ignores him.

“Louis, stop,” Harry pleads. “I had to tell them about the wall, you know that.”

“Whatever. I don’t care about that. Your car’s just stupid,” Louis tells him in a breezy tone. He’s such a brat.

“Louis!”

“S’not fair that you even know my name. That’s how you knew who I was to tell them, because you’ve been creeping on me.” Louis isn’t even pausing to talk to Harry, just continues messing up his poor car.

“I know your name by accident from that time we bumped into each other. My uncle mentioned you, I didn’t seek it out or anything,” Harry argues, worriedly eyeing the heavy load of blue powder that’s just been dumped on the bonnet. “My name’s Harry, alright, now we’re even.”

“I prefer the name I’ve been calling you in my head, thanks.” Louis smiles as he smears the blue around. “Dickhead. It’s fitting, right?”

Harry grabs Louis’ wrist that’s been defacing his car. “Enough,” he grits. “You’ll clean this up or else whatever trouble you’re in now, it’s going to get a lot worse, do you hear me?”

Louis finally turns to look up at Harry. Harry suddenly realises how small he is as he barely reaches up to Harry’s neck. He also expects Louis to essentially spit in his face then skip off.

“Okay.”

That, he wasn’t expecting.

“Uh, what?” Harry loosens his grip in shock and Louis snatches his wrist back.

“Okay, I’ll come clean it.”

“What? Really?”

“Well, I wouldn’t want to get in even worse trouble now, would I?” Harry is pretty sure that Louis is mocking him. “Can’t clean it today, though, m’busy. Give me your address and I’ll come clean it when I can.”

Harry squints his eyes at him suspiciously. In return, Louis stares back unwaveringly.

“You want it clean or not?” Harry is certain Louis added ‘dickhead’ to the end of that under his breath.

“Alright, fine.” He can’t really afford the expenses of getting someone else to clean it and it doesn’t seem fair that he himself clean all of this up when Louis is the one who made the mess. Harry pulls out a piece of paper and pen to jot down his address. “Come by and I’ll unlock it for you to clean. Remember, I’ll be letting the college know about this unless it’s spotless by the time you’re finished. And not ‘when you can’, you’re coming tomorrow morning so that I can actually use my car this weekend and for work next week.”

“Okay, if that’s what you want.” Louis gives Harry a fake smile then snatches the piece of paper from his hand before sauntering off.

Harry sighs at his retreating form. As he moves to gather up all of the toilet paper, he can’t help but think about how Louis Tomlinson is one never-ending nightmare.

-

On Saturday morning, Harry’s lie in is very loudly interrupted by an unbelievably harsh alarm coming from outside. He honestly expects his head to split open from the noise.

Clearly, he can’t just roll over and go back to sleep. He stumbles out of his bed and quickly checks his watch to find that it’s currently 5am. Then he blearily pads over to his window and flings it open to investigate the sound. Apparently, he’s not the only one as he can see a few of his neighbours are also looking out in attempts to solve this little mystery.

“Whose bleedin’ car is that?!” Harry hears.

So, it’s a car alarm. Harry tries to rub some sleep out of his eyes as he scans below over the parking space behind his flat’s building. He’s barely awake so it’s hard to process much but as soon as he sees his black Honda Civic covered in suds and a small figure scrubbing at it, his eyes blink wide open.

Fuck.

He frantically grabs a pair of tracksuit bottoms from the floor and jumps into them then pulls on a random t-shirt from the drawers. He just about remembers to grab his keys before he dashes into his hallway to slip on some sliders and sprint out and down the stairs.

He runs until he’s made it outside to the parking lot where he can see Louis wringing out a sponge and mopping away at his car while humming a sweet tune. He’s dressed in white shorts that look as if though they’re half of a football kit and a grey tank top. Both pieces are absolutely drenched, their colours faded into transparency.

When Louis bends over the hood, Harry nearly swallows his tongue at the sight of his plump arse and the white material matted over it like a second skin.

He honestly forgets what he’s supposed to be doing until somebody yells angrily from their window. Right, the alarm is still blasting.

Harry rushes to click the button on his car key and silence the blaring once and for all. For the first time that morning, Harry can finally hear himself think and breathes a sigh of relief.

“What the fuck are you doing?” he asks, relief turning to anger at Louis still going at it with his stupid wet sponge.

“Cleaning your car like you told me to,” Louis replies.

“I told you to come get me to unlock it first, so the alarm wouldn’t go off! And it’s 5am!” Harry cries.

“Must’ve forgotten that part.” Louis shrugs. “And you did want me to clean it as soon as possible. I didn’t know if you’d change your mind and go snitching on me again, so I came early to make sure.”

Harry could honestly murder him.

“Calm down, Curly.” Louis rolls his eyes, flicking his wet fringe off his face. “I’m almost done.”

He’s telling the truth because less than five minutes later, Louis steps back and the car is as good as new.

“See,” Louis says.

Harry is just about to thank him, reluctantly that is, when Louis goes to grab a megaphone from his backpack. He proceeds to turn it on then point it towards Harry’s building where unfortunately, most of his neighbours have neglected to shut their windows after this morning’s incident.

“Louis, what are y-“

“Hi, everyone!” Louis’ voice booms. “Just wanted to let you know that Harry Styles from B11 is the owner of this car and its nice, loud alarm and he told me to come clean it this morning. That’s Harry Styles from flat B11.”

Louis drops the megaphone from his face and grins widely at Harry before gathering his stuff and leaving.

-

Now that his whole building hates him, Harry’s likelihood of stumbling upon some friends decrease massively. He’s just happy they haven’t formed a mob and stormed him out of his home let alone show any willingness to converse.

No, if he’s going to socialise, he’s got to try and go out and find people. That’s why he’s pulled up his phone and found a local pub to go to tonight. There is the fear that going to pub by himself is weird, something lonely old men do, but he really has no other choice bar taking his four-year-old cousin.

Dressed in jeans and a black button-up, Harry decides to just walk the distance to the pub. It’s close enough and he’s obviously going to be drinking so there’s no point in taking the car. Plus, since the incident, he’s wary of being seen with the car in case it jolts his neighbours’ memory and reminds them of the ugly ordeal.

The pub looks plenty normal from the outside. It’s a typical brick building with wooden benches scattered outside for those warm summer evening and a swinging sign that reads ‘The Rope and Anchor’.

Stepping inside, the place has a nice, warm glow from the ambient lighting. It’s not too big or small and for a Saturday night, it’s decently packed yet not overcrowded. Harry likes that even though it’s a pub, there’s a contemporary feel to it as if the place has been recently renovated as he’s sure that means the punters will be closer to his age. There are tables scattered on the wooden flooring but of course they’re all filled up and sitting alone at a table won’t help with the whole meeting new people thing anyway so Harry heads for a standing spot at the bar.

He’s waiting to order when a bartender approaches him, still cackling happily from the tail end of whatever funny conversation he’s just had.

“Alright, mate? What can I get you?” he asks in an Irish accent.

“Uh, do you do cocktails?” Harry replies, knowing it makes him sound like a knob. But he likes what he likes and he’s not spending all night sipping bitter beer when he can have fun, fruity drinks.

The bartender laughs. “I’ll make you whatever you want!” he proclaims. “But before you say anything, I’ll start you off with a Niall Special because I like your nerve and that mermaid tattoo. On the house.”

Harry looks down at his arm adorned with the naked mermaid.

“Cheers, man,” he grins back at the guy who he assumes is Niall.

“No worries!”

The drink gets made then handed to him and Harry takes a sip. It’s very sweet, just what he likes, but when he swallows, he can feel the burn from the high volume of spirit.

“Yeah, that’s my talent; hiding the nasty taste of vodka.” Niall explains.

“It’s nice, thanks,” Harry tells him.

Throughout the night, Niall keeps him topped up on drinks and conversation. They have a good laugh together after Harry explains his predicament of having just moved to the area. Niall has a carefree aura about him and tells Harry that he’s got lots of mates he can easily introduce him to. Harry hopes that’s true because he’s absolutely holding him to it.

“And his arse. My God. That arse is-” Harry clicks his fingers about as he tries to think of the word. “-massive. No, wait. S’not just the size. It’s like, apples.”

He might be nearing his tenth drink.

“You’ve barely been here a month and you’re already caught up in love, man. That’s rough,” Niall shakes his head in sympathy.

“Wha-? Love?” Harry scrunches his face into a frown.

“Yeah, this Louis guy, you love him. You’re obsessed,” Niall says.

Harry still has no idea what he’s on about. Either way, he’s just thought about Louis’ bum and wondering whether he’s mentioned it. Just as he’s about to, Niall gets called away by another customer. Never mind, as soon as he’s back, Harry will tell him all about Louis’ lovely behind.

-

Harry suffers from a bitch of a hangover the next morning. He’s so glad that he doesn’t have to go into work and that even tomorrow’s lesson can be planned before he goes in. That gives him all day, blessedly, to recover.

He barely remembers anything from last night but when he goes to check his phone, he does have a text.

 ** _From: Nialler_**  
_hi harry its niall from the pub I put my number in ur phone last night. u were plastered so I got u a taxi. lmk ur safe whenever u see this and come back soon buddy!!_

Well, at least he’s got a friend now.

-

After Harry is pretty much settled, he decides to find out about the local church. He’s not religious per se but back in Holmes Chapel, he had been going to church with his family regularly as he was growing up. Seeing as he’s in a whole new town, he figures that going to church will lead him to feel some sense of familiarity plus he can meet people there.

With that in mind, he finds himself pulling on a crisp, white shirt, and black slacks and combing his hair back neatly on Sunday morning before driving over to the church.

When he arrives, the building itself is quaint as expected, made from stones that look rustic and cobbled. The grass around it is nice and green, meaning that the church is cared for. Harry figures that he should get inside so he wanders up the steps and out of the light chill.

Inside, there’s a good amount of people already sat down. They look to be families with both adults and children dressed smartly, patiently awaiting the priest. It seems as if the town’s community is fairly active which is good news since Harry was worried that this would be a bad idea as going to church on Sundays isn’t as prolific as it once was. It would’ve been awkward to sit in an empty church by himself.

He doesn’t want to draw attention to himself, so he slips into the back row of pews. From his seat, Harry glances around and lands his eyes on the pretty stained-glass windows. If he’s being honest though, this is sort of boring so far. He supposes going to church with his family was different because they were spending time together and that was what he enjoyed, it wasn’t really about the church. And now he’s apprehensive about the service ahead and missing his mum.

The priest is within sight, just about to take his place and begin, when large family come bustling in. They’re probably trying to be discreet, but it looks as if thought there’s a lot of children so that’s an impossible feat. They slide into the row in front of Harry, one by one with each parent at each end, until the row is full. There’s still one left by that point and the boy seats himself next to Harry.

It takes a little while but Harry almost gasps like an idiot when he realises that the boy is Louis. He didn’t realise it immediately because this Louis looks completely different from the one he’s used to seeing. Instead of his sweats and skinnies, he’s in smart trousers and a button up shirt. His hair is neatly brushed and, with the addition of his nice-looking family, he himself has adopted the appearance of an upstanding young man, like butter wouldn’t melt. Which is hilarious since up until now, Harry could’ve sworn that butter would burn the moment it went anywhere near that fiery tongue.

And so, for the second time in his life, Harry develops a whole new fascination for Louis Tomlinson. Only this time, it’s Nice Louis. He’s only labelling him that in his head actually, he doesn’t know if this Louis actually comes with a personality to match the immaculate exterior.

He learns that he does to an extent. During the whole service, Harry can’t keep his eyes from looking over at Louis. The boy behaves good as gold, hyper focused on what’s going on and respectfully quiet. There’s not even fidgeting in sight as his dainty hands fold up neatly in his lap.

When the time comes to sing the hymns, Harry is truly floored. Louis has the most beautiful voice he’s ever heard. It’s gorgeously delicate and raspy and sounds practically angelic carrying the soft melodies.

As the service grows closer and closer to a finish, Harry tries to rein it in with the gobsmacked staring. Louis himself hasn’t looked over at Harry once. He must’ve known Harry has been sitting right next to him at the back of this church for about an hour, but he doesn’t seem to want to acknowledge it. Which is fine by Harry, really.

When the end does arrive, Louis primly stands up and moves to help his parents with the young girls that Harry assumes are his siblings. He still hasn’t spared Harry a glance. Before long, the family is making a move out of the doors along with the rest of the church and Harry is left without any new friends as planned but with a bout of confusion.

-

Over the next week, Harry still sees Louis in his regular spot on an almost daily basis. The boy is still always smoking and up to mischief, so Harry nearly believes that he hallucinated what he saw in the church. How can this be the same perfectly behaved person that he saw? At church of all places?

That hallucination theory doesn’t pan out because the next Sunday, Harry’s back at the church and so is Louis. They’ve managed to be seated in the same spot again, right next to each other, still not saying a word to one another. Harry knows it’s bad manners but he’s itching to ask Louis a lot of invasive questions about what he’s doing here.

Maybe there is a higher power because after this service, Harry heads to the bathroom where he finds Louis washing his hands over the sink.

“Uh, hey,” Harry says, like an idiot. But he couldn’t just say nothing. Actually, nothing would’ve been better.

He gets no reply either way. He goes to stand next to Louis to turn on the neighbouring faucet. He looks over at Louis’ bent head through the long mirror facing both of them. The boy looks deeply fascinated by his own hands right now.

“Wouldn’t have pegged you for a church-goer,” Harry comments because he can’t ever shut up.

Louis remains silent

“Your family seem nice,” Harry barrels on. “Do they know about all the trouble you get into?”

Finally, he hears Louis mutter a quiet “Like they’d care,” under his breath.

“What does that mean?” Harry actually becomes concerned thinking about the implications behind that statement. “Are you alright?”

Louis twists his tap to shut the water off then turns to face Harry.

“S’nothing,” He rolls his eyes and crossing his arms, trying to appear unaffected by whatever he’s saying. “I act up sometimes because my parents have so many kids and I’m the oldest, so they don’t pay me much attention. That and my friends are idiots and I get bored in school, so I mess around, it’s whatever.”

Harry takes in what he’s just said. He’s surprised that Louis would just admit that, but it does make sense in a way. Getting into trouble on purpose is still stupid though, in Harry’s opinion.

“Alright,” Harry says slowly. “But why do you give me such a hard time then? It’s not like I’d tell your parents anything.”

At that, Louis turns away again. He’s looking shifty all of a sudden.

“Louis, what is it? Come on, you’ve told me loads already, you can tell me this,” Harry coaxes.

Louis looks down at his feet, fidgeting.

He looks so cute right now, in his Sunday best and nervous for whatever reason. Harry reaches out and lightly lifts up Louis’ chin so that he can look at his face.

“Look, I’m sorry if I did anything to upset you, okay? So, if that’s why you did all that stuff then we’re fine,” Harry reassures him.

“S’not that,” Louis murmurs.

Harry waits patiently, and his thumb has started to absentmindedly stroke Louis’ sharp jaw in an attempt to ease him up.

“You’re hot, alright? I wanted you to notice me.” Louis’ usually golden skin flushes pink at his admission.

Harry is taken aback by it, that’s for sure. No way did he expect Louis to tell him that he’s been attracted to him this whole time. Not only that, he’s also been actively trying to catch Harry’s attention.

He pauses all movement momentarily as he starts to process this information. The younger boy bites his lip, still nervous, then tentatively reaches a hand up to touch Harry’s wrist attached to the hand that remained rested on his face.

“It worked though, didn’t it?” he asks softly. “You want me back.”

Louis looks so pretty; Harry never had a chance. Harry regains motion and strokes at Louis’ buttery cheek, watching as the boy’s eyes flutter close for a second, knowing what it would do to Harry to see those long lashes fluttering.

To answer Louis’ question, Harry dips down to kiss him on his bitten lips.

He tastes sweet as anything, letting Harry press in and suckle as he pleases. Louis’ arms come to wrap around Harry’s neck to anchor himself when his mouth gets pried open and Harry is licking his way in. Their lips slot and move together as they feel one another out for the first time. Harry can’t get enough of it, of Louis’ pink, pink lips and his stuttering breaths.

As the kiss heats up, Harry hoists Louis up onto the counter. He carries on tasting as much as he can as his crotch realises that at this height, he can grind into the smaller boy perfectly.

They continue to kiss hotly and something about Louis drives Harry mad because he’s hardening at a ridiculous pace. It’s friction of the best kind while he smothers Louis’ tight body with his own.

“Fuck,” Harry pants in between there fervent snogging.

Louis then palms at Harry’s hard-on with his delicate, little hand and Harry’s brain goes into haywire.

“I’m guessing you’re really happy to see me,” he practically giggles.

“Louis, I swear, you’re gonna have to get your hand off unless you plan on finishing the job,” Harry warns, squeezing his eyes shut.

“Alright, then,” Louis replies. “Get it out.”

“What?” Harry looks at him in astonishment.

“Do you want a handie or not?”

And Harry wants so he quickly unbuckles his belt and undoes his trousers, carefully pulling out his cock.

Louis eyes it for a second, chewing on his lip as he takes it in.

Harry can’t stand the pause, so he leans back in for a kiss. He pulls back only to whisper into Louis’ ear some words of encouragement since his dick is still out and hard, begging for a little attention.

“You can just touch it, s’alright, babe,” he husks.

Louis gulps but nods, reaching out to finally wrap his hand around Harry’s shaft. The skin on skin feeling alone has Harry hissing.

“Yeah, that’s it, you can do whatever you like,” Harry says because Louis literally has all the power in his hand.

The strokes begin tentatively but they feel amazing. So much so that Harry has to bury his head in Louis’ neck, breathing in his sweet scent as the boy’s hand works over his cock, steadily speeding up.

Harry’s in the midst of thinking about how he might not last too long when they both hear footsteps right outside. They spring into action immediately, rushing over to a cubicle then quietly slamming the door to a shut and bolting the lock.

Their hearts are hammering, and Harry is processing how he ended up in a church bathroom, sitting on the toilet seat with his dick still out and a pretty boy on his lap.

The other person is still going about their business outside the cubicle when Louis resumes his strokes. Harry throws his head back and opens his mouth up in a silent moan because this time, Louis isn’t messing about. His clever little hand has a firm grip and slides over at just the right pace, thumb paying close attention to the leaking head and its sensitive underside. Louis is jacking him hard and fast and Harry’s view of him is a bent over head with long, dark lashes fanning everywhere as he focuses on the job at hand.

As soon as the door of the bathroom swings shut with a thud, Harry groans and shoots off his load. It’s a fucking great orgasm.

“My hand’s all messy,” Louis pouts and Harry opens his eyes to look at his dainty hand covered with creamy white, some of it even dripping down the thin wrist.

“Well, there’s one way of cleaning it up,” Harry smirks at him.

Louis blushes and shifts his gaze away.

“Never done that before,” he mutters.

God, he’s so perfect. He’s a little menace, literally just wanked Harry off like a champ in the toilets, but never tasted cum.

Harry watches as he carefully sticks his pointer finger into his mouth then look up at Harry from under his lashes while he sucks at it. Harry’s grip on his fleshy hips tighten at the sight and he really needs to be careful or else he’ll get hard again very soon.

Louis pulls the finger out after he’s had a good taste.

“S’alright,” he shrugs.

Harry smiles at how stupidly cute he is.

The moment passes, and Louis jumps up off his lap, giving Harry a chance to tuck himself back in. They wander out of their cubicle and Louis cleans up for real at the sink with water and soap.

“I’m gonna go now, my family’s probably looking for me,” Louis announces before he turns to leave.

Harry stands there, looking at his ruffled reflection in the bathroom mirror and runs a hand through his unruly hair.

-

It’s Monday and Harry has no expectations of change. His slightly boring routine persists as he goes about planning his lessons. About half an hour before he leaves home for the college though, he does get a phone call from someone interested in taking piano lessons. At least that’s something.

When he does get to the college, he parks his car and takes his normal route into work. The car park is still there, the bin with its chipped paint is still there, and the smoking area with its inhabitants is, of course, still there.

Passing the students as they smoke and chatter, Harry can’t help but eye the crowd and single out Louis. He looks beautiful, like always, in a grey hoodie. Even though Harry’s gaze glues to him helplessly, Louis doesn’t look over once during the seconds it takes to reach the main building.

Business as usual then.

-

As it turns out, business as usual only applies to six days of the week because on Sundays, Harry and Louis are like magnets.

They’re beside each other at the back of that church during every service and they can’t help themselves from trying something, anything, to spark interest in one another.

He says that but really, Louis is the one holding him completely captive with his maddening acts. Louis will press himself right up to Harry so that their thighs burn at the touch. He’ll drop his pamphlet then bend himself over obscenely to retrieve it, always taking extra time to locate it on the floor right in front of him so that Harry has to look at that unreal behind for unbearable seconds. He’ll give Harry this look, this intentional look upwards through those pretty, pretty eyelashes, where he holds the tiniest bit of bottom lip between his teeth and instantly make Harry crazy with want.

It’s like all week, Harry is a normal person. Him and Louis don’t know each other, don’t acknowledge each other but if they did, it would be with disdain. Then on Sundays, they gravitate towards each other without fail.

It gets to a point where Harry would do anything for a repeat of the bathroom incident. God knows he’s repeated it enough times in his head.

On this particular Sunday, Harry doesn’t get the chance to dash out immediately after the service like he usually does. A few regulars have finally noticed his presence and have made the effort to come over and introduce themselves.

They seem kind, a group of middle-aged women who frequent the church with their families. One of them even has a baby with her and Harry gets to hold him and coo at his cute, smiley face. As always with Harry and babies, he gets caught up for ages. The mums are nice too, but his soft spot are the little angels.

By the time he manages to pry himself away, most people have cleared out and are presumably getting on with the rest of their plans for the day. As Harry is walking to his car though, he spots Louis all by himself heading to a footpath along the street in front of the church.

“Hey, are you alright?” Harry asks him, sure that he saw Louis in church earlier with his huge family as always.

“Uh, yeah, m’fine,” Louis looks up and answers.

“What are you doing by yourself? Where’s your family?”

“Our car only fits eight, so I usually take the bus or just walk,” Louis explains.

Harry actually feels a bit sad for Louis in that moment.

“Do you want a lift?” he blurts out.

Louis shrugs. “Okay.”

And then he’s following Harry to his car.

During the drive, the atmosphere in the car thickens gradually. It might just be in Harry’s head though because Louis seems content to sit primly in the front seat while Harry sneaks these frequent glances over at him. He looks too pretty, dressed up in well-fitted dark trousers with a short sleeve, light blue button up tucked into it. His hair is swept softly to the side, all neat, and he’s all around begging to be roughed up.

Harry’s grip on the steering wheel tightens for some reason when Louis starts fidgeting around, touching his tiny fingers all over those thick thighs. The younger boy’s presence is intoxicating and Harry has to fight not to close his eyes in appreciation for the lovely smell akin to fabric softener and sweetness emitting from him.

It’s not until they’re well into their journey that Harry realises Louis hasn’t even told him his address or given any directions. On autopilot, Harry has just been driving to his own home. Thinking about it, that’s not such a bad idea. Having Louis in his flat or just extending time spent with the boy in general.

“Do you, er, mind if we stop off at mine for a sec?” Harry asks.

Louis shrugs like it’s okay. He doesn’t ask why so maybe they’re both on the same page here.

It’s not long before they’re rolling into the parking lot of his building. Harry does get flashbacks to the last time they were here together and yeah, that’s not a great memory, so he hurries them inside.

Once they’re in his flat, he remembers how stark it is. There’s no sofa so when Harry tells Louis to sit down, it has to be on his double mattress that’s currently on the floor. Louis doesn’t seem to mind and does as he’s told.

Meanwhile, Harry rummages around his cupboards for a bit so that it looks like he had a purpose in coming here instead of taking Louis straight to his house. He’s probably fooling nobody though so he gives up the act in favour of pouring out orange juice into some glasses.

He brings them over to Louis who’s waiting expectantly atop his thick sheets. Harry sits beside him and hands over a glass.

Louis takes a sip before he speaks.

“You just wanted to get me in your bed, didn’t you?”

Harry smiles and blushes slightly because it sounds like a joke but really, it’s spot on.

“You don’t mind, do you?” he asks, looking at the boy’s face.

Now it’s Louis’ turn to blush as he stares intently at the juice he’s holding in his lap.

“I guess not,” he confesses quietly.

Harry bites his lip in fondness, not quite believing how beautiful Louis looks just sitting there clutching at his glass and acting shy.

He places his own drink down then moves to pry Louis’ from his hands to rid of too. With those out of the way, Harry climbs up onto the mattress to gently press Louis down so that he’s laying underneath his broader body.

Harry leans in to murmur into Louis’ ear a careful “Is this okay?”.

The sweet ‘yes’ he receives makes him happy to lean down and kiss the smaller boy.

Harry rolls their tongues together, subconsciously trying to bruise up those shiny lips. They take little breaths in between long, drawn out moments of passionate kissing where they develop more and more fascination for one another’s taste. Harry draws the smaller boy’s knees up when the need to get closer becomes too much then swallows down every whine from Louis’ mouth as their increasingly desperate bodies come together.

All he wants right now is a very naked Louis writhing on his sheets, pliant and willing for Harry to spread his legs wide open for him to do as he pleases.

The first step to reaching that is to nearly tear Louis’ shirt right off of him. The trousers and underwear are next, all off in a harsh pull from Harry’s lust-filled stupor. When Louis is completely bare, Harry looks him over, eyeing up the slim figure and soft curves. He’s golden and practically glowing as he twitches under Harry’s heavy gaze. Harry could get off from the sight of his short, thick cock leaking all over that bump of a tummy.

“You’re beautiful, you know that?” Harry asks him.

Louis doesn’t say anything back, just sprawls prettily like he’s too overwhelmed.

Harry takes the moment to hastily remove his own clothes. Once he’s naked too, he looks straight into Louis’ clouded blue eyes and comes back down to kiss him as their bodies press together, really together with no barriers, for the first time. That feeling, of being so intimate with each other, it’s like nothing Harry’s felt before. Sure, he’s had sex, but he’s never felt this.

He’s aware that he needs to heat the moment up further if he’s going to get inside. That’s when he begins rolling his hips with real intent, kissing along Louis’ yearning neck as the younger boy’s mouth is preoccupied with soft moans. Harry spends time touching Louis’ cock, petting it with a few strokes now and again. He wets his thumb with the precum then moves it to snub at Louis’ hole, feeling it clench at the slight breach.

“I’m gonna make you feel good, baby,” Harry soothes. “Gonna take care of this gorgeous little body, is that okay?”

“Yes, please,” Louis whispers, begs.

“Okay, then you’re going to have to relax for me, angel. Really need you to spread your legs nice and wide for me,” Harry says quietly yet firmly, still working at Louis’ lower regions to keep the pleasure mounting. “I know you can take it, can’t you? Got me all hard so you’d have something big and long in there.”

Harry moves to get lube from the little table next to them then slicks two fingers up well, enough to hopefully coat the entirety of Louis’ walls.

He moves to prep Louis so that the boy is wet and waiting, ready for an easier glide. But he’s still working him up so that it’ll be good when the time comes.

Harry finally has Louis where he wants him after what feels like hours of grinding, teasing, and dirty words. He has Louis rubbing himself on the mattress and up into the air, fisting his hands around; craving for a cock to fill him to the brim.

He slides in, red tip first then a pause, and has to grip Louis’ thighs so hard he leaves marks because the boy is tight. All the lube and coaxing was necessary as without it, Harry knows for a fact he wouldn’t be able to get in.

He is now and he watches through the hair that’s fallen over his forehead, dripping with sweat, as Louis tears up from the breach. The tears have no time to fall because Harry starts thrusting and turning Louis into a whimpering mess.

He fucks into the tightness, folding Louis’ legs into his chest so that he’s nice and compact and completely open for Harry to get in deep.

“You’re so fucking tiny but taking me so well,” Harry pants.

Louis’ hiccupy breaths of reply are adorable, spurring Harry on even more.

“God, you’re so tight, fucking hell,” Harry tells him.

“Probably because n-uh-nobody’s ever been inside before,” Louis stutters.

“Fuck, Louis,” Harry groans. “Are you serious, baby? This your first time?”

Louis nods up at him with those big blue eyes, the picture of pure innocence even as his arse is being pounded.

“Tell me what’s been in this hole,” Harry demands.

“M-my fingers,” Louis breathes.

Harry imagines Louis, all small and huddled in his bed, tucking a few short fingers into his arse at night, and moans.

“What else, baby?”

Louis blushes a deep red. “The end of my hairbrush,” he confesses, voice almost silent. “Just wanted to know what it’d feel like.”

That image is about to implode Harry’s brain as it sends his hips into overdrive, surely making it impossible to miss the prostate.

“It’s mine from now, yeah?” Harry doesn’t know where that comes from and chalks to it up to mindless dirty talk for the time being. “Say it.”

Louis takes a second because he’s probably gone judging by how wrecked he’s looking.

“My hole is yours,” he manages.

And God, Harry loves hearing that.

He keeps up his thrusts as they both approach their orgasms. Harry’s been groaning and grunting all throughout as he feels the bliss from each pivot of his groin. Louis’ quietened down though, overcome by the intensity of it all.

Harry brings himself down to kiss the boy, attempting to revive him enough so that he can enjoy it when he reaches his climax.

“You’ve been such a good boy,” Harry praises, at which Louis smiles sweetly. The reaction gives Harry an idea. “Why don’t you call me ‘daddy’, is that alright?”

“Yes, daddy,” Louis practically jumps at the suggestion.

From then on, ‘daddy’ is a pacifier that keeps the younger boy satisfied. He moans it like a mantra, letting Harry know exactly who’s in charge of his pleasure.

Harry really needs to come by this point but he knows he’s got to get his boy there first. He reaches to jack Louis with enthusiasm, rubbing and squeezing at his sensitive spots. It makes Louis kick his legs out from the jolts shooting through him until he cries, “Oh God, daddy!”, then spurts messily onto his tanned stomach.

The clenches from that orgasm makes Harry shove into Louis’ sensitive body a few more times before he releases into the rubber, groaning with his eyes squeezed shut and fingers denting Louis’ delicate waist.

-

They don’t wake up until the afternoon, when the grey sun is drowsy and about to start sinking any time now. It’s disorientating because of the awkward hour and haziness lingering in their minds. After sex like that, they couldn’t do more than fall straight into a deep sleep.

Harry isn’t being the most graceful, limbs groggy and eyes lidded with screwed brows as he tries to get ahold of himself.

But then he sees Louis. He looks so tiny and snuffly, not meeting Harry’s gaze as he lays there naked under the sheets. It’s like the nerves have been pulled right out of him and he’s left soft and vulnerable.

“You doing okay?” Harry reaches out to cup his cheek and stroke lightly, speaking with a low voice.

Louis doesn’t say anything but he nods, eyes drooping again already.

If Harry’s going to wake up, he needs to snap himself out of this dopey bubble so he starts to sit up and stretch. His joints are like an old man’s and he internally winces as he hears them crack with each movement. It’s surprisingly stuffy, the warmth not helpful towards his attempt to rouse, leading to the duvet being tossed away from his lap.

Once in a sufficiently stable headspace again, Harry turns back to check on Louis only to find the boy staring at Harry’s now uncovered lap.

“Can’t believe I took that,” he says.

Harry smirks. “Well you did,” he leans in to kiss over Louis’ cheekbones, feeling the soft skin heat from flush under his lips. “Took it so well, too.”

That seems to make Louis happy, the mood infectious enough to rope them into a snog. It’s Louis who eventually pushes at Harry’s chest to part them.

“M’hungry,” he pouts.

Harry grins at him. “Okay, yeah, I’ll make us something.” Harry kisses Louis’ forehead through his fringe. “I’ll make it quick, just sit tight.”

He jumps up off the mattress to pull on some joggers then leaves his bedroom area for the kitchen. He grabs Louis a cold bottle of water from the fridge to tide him over. Then he works on some grilled cheeses, trying his best to make them impressive but knowing that they’re both starving for any food, pronto.

Once he’s done, he calls for Louis to come to the table and eat but the other doesn’t seem to be making his way over.

“Lou, you okay, love?” Harry goes over to the mattress. “The food’s ready.”

“I, um, can’t walk,” Louis says with a deep blush over his face.

“Oh,” Harry replies then tries his best not to smirk with pride.

“Don’t look so smug,” Louis reprimands, squinting his eyes at him.

“Sorry, sorry,” Harry apologises, probably grinning helplessly. “I’ll carry you, okay?”

Louis sniffles. “Don’t have anything on.”

“I don’t mind,” Harry says cheekily.

Louis does not look amused.

“Okay, uh, look,” Harry quickly rushes to grab a yellow jumper from his dresser and some boxers. “Put these on.”

He hands the clothes to Louis who slips then on under the duvet. When he’s done, he sits there like a little diva, waiting for Harry to know what to do next.

Luckily, Harry’s on it and lifting him into his arms. The boy weighs practically nothing so the short distance to a kitchen chair is no strain on his muscles.

“Ow,” Louis whimpers when he’s placed down.

“Sorry, love,” Harry winces, dashing back to the mattress for a pillow to put under Louis’ bottom. “Is that okay?”

“Yeah, s’good,” Louis tells him before he daintily picks up his sandwich and starts tucking in.

He chews his food like a baby animal and his puffed cheeks are really fucking adorable; Harry can barely concentrate on his own toastie.

They eat their late lunch in silence, most likely because they’re hungry and therefore invested in the food. Once they finish though, Louis starts up conversation.

“What’re you doing here then?” he asks.

“I came here to teach music lessons: guitar and piano,” Harry answers.

“They didn’t have guitars and pianos where you came from?” Louis questions.

Harry laughs. “No, they did, but my uncle runs the college here and he’s letting me use a music room after hours,” he explains.

“Paul’s your uncle?”

“Yeah.”

“Hmm,” Louis hums. “Surprised he hasn’t put you off me.”

“Nothing could’ve put me off you, if I’m being honest,” Harry admits.

Louis blushes at that but tries to hide it along with a creeping smile.

“I like your cheese toasties,” Louis compliments.

“Thank you.”

The conversation grows after that, nothing serious, but enough for Harry to gauge Louis’ personality. He’s sarcastic as hell and quick-witted, easily excited about very particular topics that he’s passionate about. He’s also wonderfully sweet, rushing to the defence of anything or anyone that’s undeservedly being mistreated.

They have a nice afternoon squished around that little table chatting away with second helpings of grilled cheeses, attempted chocolate milk with melted Cadbury’s bars, and stolen glances.

-

Next Sunday, Harry is back at Church. At this point, it would be weird not to go so suddenly, he’s reached a new spiritual level in life as an active participant in religion without even noticing.

His faith is probably just that strong or maybe he’s here to see Louis. Who knows.

They left things last Sunday with Harry dropping him off, something he should’ve done before the hugely distracting detour, and both of them appearing reluctant to let go. He’s well aware that both himself and Louis have played it hot and cold prior to last Sunday so they’re both probably floundering a little. He wouldn’t exactly mind taking some lead and coming right out with a proposal to maybe date or something like that but Louis is a difficult one. He’s unlike anything Harry’s ever experienced. More like thunder and sunshine rolled together than a human being. How do you ask out an enigma?

That and Harry isn’t the most well-versed in relationships what with being twenty-one and all. He’s had girlfriends, boyfriends, hookups, flings and everything in between but there’s no strategy, ever.

Which is why he’s sticking with going to Church and hoping for the best.

The best turns out to be Louis dressed in a baby pink shirt. There’s always going to be something about Louis all cleaned up that does it for Harry.

This time, they talk to each other briefly at the back where they usually sit. It’s sweet, really, a back and forth of pleasantries laced with lingering looks and ‘accidental’ brushes of skin. They’re there for a reason though so their conversation is cut short by the service.

Afterwards, Louis is busy with his family as usual. Meanwhile, one of the ladies from last week has found Harry again and approaches him with her baby as bait.

“Harry!” she calls. “Hiya, love. Little Eric here wanted to say ‘hello’. I think you made quite the impression on him.”

Harry smiles at the child in her arms as his eyes widen with fascination at the surroundings.

“Hi again, Jessica,” Harry greets her politely before turning to her baby. “And hello, Eric! You made a very good impression on me, buddy.”

“You’re just so good with him! It’s so rare that men get along with small children, you know,” Jessica says. “You must just have an aura about you.”

“I don’t know about that,” Harry protests.

“No, no, seriously, you don’t have to be modest,” she insists, smiling at him and patting his arm.

“Thank you, then. It’s nice to hear I’m not scaring babies with my face,” Harry jokes.

Jessica laughs loudly.

She’s about to say something when Harry gets tapped on the back. He turns around to see Louis standing there.

“I’m ready to go,” he says.

“Uh,” Harry is a bit caught out in the moment. “Okay, yeah.” He turns back to face Jessica and little Eric. “Sorry but I should get going. It was nice to see you both.”

Jessica smiles at him and bids a goodbye then leaves to approach her friends.

“She was flirting with you,” Louis states.

“No she wasn’t,” Harry rolls his eyes.

“She was,” Louis rebuts. “Let’s go before she’s back with her equally desperate friends.”

They turn to look at Jessica who is now surrounded by the other middle-aged women. When they spot Harry, they all give him a little wave.

“Stop assuming things,” Harry scolds Louis. “Now, I wasn’t aware that I was taking you anywhere.”

Instead of replying, Louis just leads them to Harry’s car and waits expectantly for it to be unlocked before sliding into the front seat.

Harry has no strength to argue with him so he just starts the engine to roll out of the lot. As he drives, Louis fiddles with the stereo system until some pop song comes on, causing him to sit there and bobble his head along to the beat.

“What are you doing?” Louis asks five minutes in.

“Driving you home,” Harry replies.

“We’re going to yours,” Louis tells him.

Of course they are.

Harry waits for an opening then makes a turn to go back and head in the direction of his flat instead.

They get to his place and Louis starts chattering. He tells Harry all about his week; how his friend went to some rave, that his baby brother is potty training much quicker than his twin, and what an amazing album the Arctic Monkeys’ new release was.

Harry is happy to listen to it all then share his own stories from the past week. None of anything that happens to them in this small town is particularly exciting but they don’t mind. Harry makes them popcorn on his stove and lets Louis chuck anything he find around the kitchen into it. They eat and talk and listen to the rain before realising that Oasis sounds great over rain and playing it through Harry’s old speakers.

Louis insists that he invented sherbet popcorn and Harry gives him full credit and praise even though, frankly, it’s disgusting.

-

That’s how Sundays become their thing. Beyond just sitting at the back of Church teasing each other, that is.

Every Sunday, they’d both go to Church. Then afterwards, Harry will drive Louis to his flat and they’d spend the whole day together doing nothing. Harry cooks for them, spends all week browsing recipe blogs to try out new and exciting dishes now that he has someone to share a meal with, and they eat it in the kitchen or on the mattress or even on the floor when Louis decides indoor picnics are a great idea.

They don’t always drink but when they do it’s usually when the afternoon is slightly warm and they can throw open the windows, watch the sun set and drink their wine while listening to Bob Dylan. Louis looks really cute clutching a white wine bottle in his little hands and sipping it straight through a straw so Harry has given up on trying to give him a glass.

Because the English weather is damp and off-putting most days, they spend a lot of Sundays curling up under a mountain of blankets and watching cartoons. They started off with rom-coms, because that’s how it always goes with Harry and films, but they move on quickly since that genre is apparently too straight and boring for Louis. They try horror but as it turns out, Louis is a scaredy cat. They try superhero films but Harry has never read a comic in his life and is therefore not invested enough. God knows why but they also try foreign films; they get ten minutes into Wild Strawberries before giving up.

Cartoons, though, they like. They love Pixar, Disney, Dreamworks, the lot. Animated films just have a way of calming people down and making them genuinely happy. So most Sundays, they get up a cartoon on Harry’s laptop through some dodgy site and cuddle with whatever food or drink Louis demands.

They kiss a lot and have sex here and there but they mostly sit and make each other laugh. Harry learns that if Louis is gigglier than usual, he’s probably in need of a nap so on those days, all plans are scrapped in favour of sleeping the hours away.

Louis has a tough time at home with his big, rowdy family. He gets no peace and he has to watch over six children with nobody to look after him. After a few of their Sundays, he quietly tells Harry that with him, it’s nothing like that; he can breathe easy.

-

After months of phone calls and FaceTimes, Harry finally feels guilty enough to go and visit his mum. She gets really excited when he tells her, going on about all the stuff they can do together that they used to like playing scrabble and cooking a roast. She also insists that he sleep over meaning that he’s going to have to miss a Sunday.

“I’m sorry, Lou,” Harry says over the phone. He really means that because he’s fully aware of how their Sundays give Louis a much needed break from his family. “I can’t go any other day apart from the weekend because of work.”

“It’s fine,” Louis mumbles.

“How about you come over anyway?” Harry suggests. “I’ll leave you a spare key and you can take a bus here after Church. I’ll be home in the afternoon anyway and we can get a takeaway. Anything you want, okay?”

Louis considers it.

“Are you sure?” he asks.

“Yes, I’d hate to not see you for a whole other week,” Harry reassures. “Please come over so I get to see you beautiful face.”

“Piss off,” Louis tells him but Harry can hear the smile in his voice. “Yeah, okay.”

“Great! I’ll leave you a key under the mat,” Harry says. “See you on Sunday, love.”

-

Harry ends up having a really nice time with his mum, as expected. It just feels good to be home and be with the one person who you can completely relax around. He gets to do all the seemingly mundane stuff like watching game shows and playing with the cats, all of which he actually loves. Sometimes, Harry feels like an old man trapped in a young body.

He rounds the visit off with a late breakfast before kissing his mum goodbye and driving back to his flat.

It’s quiet when he gets home in the middle of the afternoon. He goes inside, expecting Louis to be up to something like maybe burning his kitchen down, and is met by silence. Only dripping from the taps echo noise.

The reason for that takes little to no time to reveal itself since it’s not hard to scan the studio and spot a body sprawled on his mattress. Harry smiles at the idea of sleepy Louis, one of the cutest versions of the younger boy.

He wanders over to the mattress and carefully dips down to sit on the end. Louis is lying on his front, hair sticking in all directions and covers thrown off so his gorgeous back is laid bare. Harry bites his lip as he looks over the tanned skin contrasting beautifully with his white duvet. Louis’ back dips gracefully into dimples only to flare out into his hips. But of course the crowning jewel is that bum. How it can just sit there, plump and perfectly rounded without a strand of hair, is beyond Harry.

As he’s admiring Louis’ form, his eyes travel around and notices something on the sheets. He knows exactly what the residue is from just another second of inspection and that discovery apparently perks his cock up.

Looking back over at Louis, his buttocks are as immaculate as he first thought but Harry can make out the centre glistening cheekily. He’s been very naughty.

Harry slides a single finger down the crack, having a feel of the wetness residing there. Even that slight parting has Harry wanting to dig in deeper, spread his thick arse apart and have a good feel. For the time being, he’s making do with lightly brushing at the opening.

The very tip of his middle finger manages to break through into the damp walls and that’s what finally causes Louis to start rustling. His body slowly wakes up and Harry can see his face turning to its side to reveal his cute, frowning expression.

“I’m home, baby,” Harry greets him.

“Harry?” Louis muffles.

“Yeah, s’me,” Harry confirms. “Came home to find you’ve dirtied up my sheets. And you’ve left yourself all messy, too.”

Louis turns his whole body so that he’s fully on his side, freeing up space for Harry to slip into and kiss him, finger still inside his arse.

Harry rouses Louis with his tongue, easily taking control of the kiss as Louis comes to from his nap. His fingers also lend a hand as they prod inside the smaller boy, swirling around and determined to find the prostate.

“What did you do while I was gone?” Harry demands to know, speaking into Louis’ flushed ear.

“I f-fingered myself,” Louis croaks. “And rutted against the bed.”

“You gave all of that up to a mattress?” Harry tuts. “Couldn’t even control yourself until I got home, could you?”

Louis ducks his head in embarrassment.

“Sorry,” he mumbles.

“No, come on,” Harry says, pulling his fingers out. “Get up and show me what you did. Pretend I’m the sheets you rubbed yourself all over like a desperate whore.”

Louis stumbles a little as Harry’s hands firmly pull him up onto his hips after removing his own clothes. Harry makes sure to spread at Louis’ cheeks so that Harry’s hardened cock can nestle right in the middle as Louis moves his small body.

Harry watches through hooded eyes as Louis plants his hands on Harry’s chest then begins shuffling back and forth, letting the dick lodged up against him rub along his opening. The slightly wet friction feels amazing and Louis looks stunning as he ruts himself like he’s in heat even though he’s barely awake while Harry just lays there.

Harry eventually reaches for the lube to spread liberally over his cock then holds it up so it’s standing tall and hard before gripping Louis’ hips tightly to still them. He pushes in and watches Louis’ eyes widen, snapping into full alert, at the intrusion.

Louis can barely handle it, squirming around as he’s impaled, mouth hanging open enough for him to drool messily. It’s perfect and Harry can’t wait to snap his hips into a rhythm as he fucks upwards.

Normally, Harry would enjoying giving Louis a ride. But this time, he just looks so helpless and feels so tight that Harry can’t control the almost animalistic thrusts coming from his aroused crotch.

Louis squeals like the brat that he is when Harry suddenly sits up to shove him down and fuck into him missionary. He throws Louis’ legs onto his shoulders to get a good bend, making it easier to slide in deeply. Louis’ head practically hangs off the foot off the mattress and there’s a concern that it might do soon if Harry’s harsh movements continue.

“Ha-Harry,” Louis whimpers.

Harry halts his hips immediately with concern. “What is it, sweetheart?”

“S’alot,” Louis hiccups.

“I’m sorry, darling,” Harry says, about to pull out.

“No!” Louis protests. “I like it.”

“Yeah?” Harry smirks. “You like this? Being fucked awake and taken hard?”

Louis nods, looks so serious with his large blue eyes staring up at Harry that he could laugh. His boy really does love getting fucked.

“I do, daddy,” Louis replies shyly.

Even though Louis called him that the first time, they don’t always do it. The word does slip out occasionally, though, especially when they have really good sex.

“Tell me everything you like, baby,” Harry instructs as he starts his thrusts back up.

“I-I like being shoved around,” Louis starts, voice sweet like honey and words absolutely filthy. “Like your huge cock inside me. L-like that look you give me, as if you’re about to tear me to p-pieces.”

Harry groans loudly, turned on from hearing how much his boy, tiny and soft, loves it up the arse.

“You’re fucking sin,” Harry grunts as his pace quickens. “Should wash your mouth out with soap.”

“Sorry, daddy,” Louis says, sounding the opposite of sorry.

“Fuck,” Harry is close, he can feel it, so he pulls himself out and quickly shuffles up Louis’ body. He grabs the boy’s jaw firmly with one hand then uses the other to press his prick up against Louis’ pink lips. “I’m gonna cream all over this pretty mouth and you’re gonna take it, alright?”

Louis doesn’t say anything, just lets his lips be roughly parted and Harry’s cockhead sit heavily on his tongue while Harry wanks himself. He looks at Harry with complete trust as white cum leaks out all over his mouth, slides down his throat and sharp jaw.

“You can swallow it,” Harry tells him through pants.

Louis closes his mouth and gulps down then has the cheek to lick all around like he fucking loves the taste and would hate to waste even a drop.

“Thanks, daddy,” he says, smiling up at Harry.

Harry caresses his cheek in response, his heart racing as Louis nuzzles into the palm.

His other hand travels down to fist around Louis’ dick and he gives him permission to fuck into it until he climaxes with a lovely whine.

They come down wrapped up in each other as Harry peppers Louis with kisses.

“I can’t believe you got cum on my sheets; I left you alone not even for a full day,” Harry thinks out loud.

Louis giggles. “I was horny.”

“You’re a handful is what you are, Louis Tomlinson,” Harry says, all sternness in the statement taken away by the adoring look he’s giving to the boy.

“Just one handful?” Louis questions.

Harry growls, grabbing Louis’ cheeks to fill, indeed, two handfuls and pulling him in for a snog to shut that smart mouth up.

-

Harry hates that him and Louis are a secret. It’s not purposeful but nobody knows about their relationship. Harry can’t say anything to anyone in his family or at the college because he’s terrified of his uncle finding out. He knows just how much Paul dislikes Louis and he dreads the day he’s told about them.

And Louis is Louis. He spends his days overlooked by his family and undervalued by his friends. His life is this reputation that he never asked for and Harry doesn’t know where he fits into that.

Louis’ growing presence in Harry’s life for the past few weeks has distracted him from the bigger picture. The fact that they don’t see each other often at all and that essentially nobody knows about them really hits him after a while. On paper, Louis could easily be Harry’s imaginary friend. That’s a frightening thought.

To try and combat his sudden jitters about the situation, Harry texts Niall asking him if he wants to hang out since it’s a Friday night. Niall agrees to go for a few drinks with him as apparently, his shift ends early that day.

That’s how Harry finds himself at a bar, three pints in and listening to Irish jibber from across the table.

“You have to meet some people! I almost forgot about your loneliness!” Niall blurts out all of a sudden.

“No, no, it’s fine, mate,” Harry protests. “It’s not so bad now.”

“Don’t be an idiot, let me call Liam,” Niall waves him off, already whipping his phone out to contact, presumably, Liam. “I’ll let him know to get a few people together. Ooh and let’s get some more bloody pints in!”

Harry is honestly struggling to keep up. He drank his first two pints at a very accelerated speed while Niall downed his like they were water and he was a parched man. Now, Harry has barely sipped his third and Niall is already waving more their way.

“You know what, we’ll get some shots in now that we’ve warmed up,” Niall decides. “That way, we’ll be nice and buzzed when the others arrive.”

Harry can only sit and watch as the tray arrives with fresh pints and six shot glasses filled to the brim with vodka. It’s not that he’s opposed to drinking, God knows he’s spent many nights barely upright, but it has been a while.

After that first shot though, the rest of the night escalates. He supposes it could be a blessing because when a group of Niall’s friends arrive, he’s not even a tiny bit nervous. There’s probably about six of them, mostly men around his age and two girls. With the drinks fuzzing his mind, Harry is charming off the bat and a proper rowdy night out prevails.

Thankfully, Harry only manages to get to that hyper level of happy drunk before he reels himself in and switches to fruity ciders. Rather than getting more pissed, he just comes down to a good, warm buzz.

Around that time, amongst his drunken new friends, is when he notices that one of the girls is seemingly showing him a lot of interest. She’s kind of been glued to his side all night and not getting as crazy as the others. Throughout uni, Harry has picked up that when girls want to pull, they tend to not let themselves go too much in fear of turning the guy the have their eye on off.

That and also, she’s touching his thigh and talking right into his ear.

“It’s crazy how Niall hasn’t introduced us before,” she’s saying.

“Uh, yeah, I guess,” Harry replies.

“He must know that you’re, like, exactly my type,” she adds.

“Thanks, that’s really sweet,” Harry says.

He’s feeling a little cornered right now. They’re in a cosy booth and he’s just realising that the others have left them alone. It might have something to do with the karaoke the staff started up.

The girl, he thinks she’s called Laura, keeps looking at him and batting her falsies. The hand that was just resting on his thigh is now stroking it and she’s leaning slightly so that her top can slip to show off more cleavage. He admits that she’s hot, with long, dark hair and grey eyes and her body looks nice too. Her perfume smells sweet and it’s apparently a good mix with the sweat lingering after hours spent in a bar. Plus, Harry’s always liked girls who are easy and she’s more or less laying it all on the table.

“And what do you think of me?” she asks.

“You seem nice, yeah,” Harry tells her, taking a sip from his bottle.

“Just nice?” she fishes.

“Um,” Harry stutters. He’s still drunk and he’s processing a bit slow.

“Would you wanna take me home?” she questions boldly.

“I do-” before Harry can finish his sentence, she’s taking his hand and putting it on her exposed lap.

“You’re so hot,” she murmurs.

“Okay, look, I’m gonna,” Harry starts shuffling his body, trying to escape. “I have a boyfriend. And I need the loo.”

He really can’t be polite any longer and practically leaps out of the booth and rushes to the men’s. Safely there, he takes a big breath before going over to the sink and splashing his face with cold water. That seems to wake him and calm him down simultaneously.

He takes another few minutes but then decides that he should get out since his little safe haven is a toilet that reeks of piss.

Trying his best not to be spotted by anyone he knows, Harry slips out and away to the front of the bar’s building. The fresh air is definitely welcomed.

He pulls out his phone from his pocket and easily finds Louis’ number before calling him.

“Harry?” Louis answers. It’s probably way past midnight.

“Hi, Lou,” Harry says back.

“What are yo-”

“Listen, I don’t like our arrangement anymore. I want to see you more. At least three times a week. And more phone calls. Actually, FaceTime. And proper dates. And meeting my mum and my cat. And I want you to be my boyfriend.” Harry racks his brain for anything else. “And you should wear blue more.”

There’s a pause.

“Is that all?”

“S’all I can think of right now,” Harry replies honestly.

“Are you drunk?”

“Maybe a little,” Harry confesses. Then he rushes to say, “But doesn’t mean I don’t mean what I said. I mean it all. You’re mine and I should have all of that.”

“Oh really?” Harry would be concerned if not for the telling smile in Louis’ voice.

“Yes. You’re all I want all the time, baby,” Harry says. “It’s not fair that you’re keeping me at arm’s length.”

“Okay, then,” Louis says.

“Okay?”

“Yeah, we can do all of that,” Louis confirms before his voice gets all soft. “I like the idea of being yours.”

Harry grins stupidly outside that bar, standing alone surrounded by the cold and the noise of drunk punters.

“You are.”

-

Even though Harry was drunk, rambling and freshly traumatised by Laura, his conversation with Louis does still stand. Louis is onboard with being more serious so Harry is glad that drunk him was stupid enough to say all of that stuff.

It’s benefitting him already. Today, for instance, is a Wednesday and normally, midweek is dull and consists of a sad dinner and scrolling through Netflix for twenty minute before realising that there’s still nothing new. But since their talk, Louis has agreed to FaceTime with him after he has his dinner.

“Hi, babe,” Harry smiles at the screen of his laptop. Louis’ pixelated image sits cutely before him, hair soft and unstyled and wearing an old Rolling Stones t-shirt.

“Hey,” Louis replies.

“You look so cute,” Harry tells him.

Louis blushes. “Thanks.”

“Did you just have dinner?”

“Yeah, I had to step in and get some pasta going because mum’s rota is unpredictable most Wednesdays,” Louis says. “And the girls were getting huffy because I’m a boring cook apparently. That’s only true because I’m scared of making fancy stuff and burning it or something. They ate it in the end.”

“I’m sure it was really good, baby,” Harry reassures him.

“Whatever, s’long as everyone’s fed,” Louis sniffles.

“You always make sure everyone’s taken care of,” Harry praises. “You should give yourself more credit.”

“Yeah, okay,” Louis reluctantly agrees, probably only to shut Harry up. “Anyway, they’re all being quiet now so that’s good. They’ll be in bed soon. Oh and I’ve nearly finished my coursework!”

“Really? That’s great, Lou,” Harry smiles proudly. “You’ve been working on that for ages.”

“I know, I’m gonna bring it to yours on Sunday and properly finish it because then I’d have some peace to focus,” Louis says.

“Yeah, of course, love,” Harry says. “And I’ll help you if you need it.”

“Thanks, H,” Louis smiles at him and he looks so pretty Harry might just burst from the inability to cuddle him.

They talk for ages about whatever comes to mind. Harry already told him about the bar when they saw each other on Sunday and Louis had just laughed at him. Now, Harry can update him on how the people he met had gotten hold of him one by one since Friday and tried to follow up on their short-lived hangout. He’s probably good with just Niall and Liam, though. Louis seems to agree after he tells him about how the others aren’t as easy to talk to now that he thinks back with a sober mind.

There’s other stuff like work, school and families. Though, Harry is trying to steer away from too much talk about his own family because he does remember telling Louis that he wants him to meet his mum. He still does but it might be too soon so he’d rather not bring it up.

They spend a long time talking about which boots Harry should buy with pictures he’s saved on his phone being sent over so Louis can help him choose. Harry takes footwear very seriously.

“Hold on, my sister’s just brought me my clothes from the laundry,” Louis says, putting the laptop to the side of his bed and disappearing off-camera for a moment. He returns with a pile of clothes and starts folding them. “What were we talking about?”

“I can’t remember,” Harry confesses. “But how would you feel about being shirtless right now?”

Harry can’t help it, he’s young and his boy is fit.

“I’m not doing the FaceTime shirtless,” Louis rolls his eyes. “Sorry.”

“Spoilsport,” Harry tuts.

“What’s this?” Louis’ eyebrows wrinkle as he spots something. He then hold up a baby pink skirt in front of him, examining it with confusion. “One of my sisters must’ve mixed her skirt in with my stuff.”

Seeing Louis with a short skirt through a webcam is giving Harry some seriously dirty thoughts.

“Baby, I would die if you put that on,” Harry says.

“You’re ridiculous.” Louis gives him a look of disdain. He then places the skirt on top of his head and starts bopping, waving his pointer fingers around in a silly dance. He looks adorable. “There, are you happy now?”

“Louis,” Harry groans.

“Sorry, babe,” Louis laughs, taking the skirt off then tossing it to the side. “It’s literally my little sister’s. Maybe if it wasn’t, I’d be up for it.”

“Are you serious?” Harry asks, not quite wanting to believe his luck.

Louis shrugs. “Yeah, why not.”

“You’d let me dress you up? Doll you up all pretty?”

“I like whatever you like,” Louis says, looking at Harry with his eyes all big and eager to please.

“Fuck,” Harry mutters.

And that’s how Harry ends up buying a white, tennis-style skirt. Louis huffs a little when Harry brings it out on Sunday but he doesn’t exactly say no. He does, however, put it on wordlessly with his t-shirt tucked into the waistband then proceeds to prance around Harry’s flat in it all day like the tease that he is. The short hem flutters up every time he makes a quick move, revealing absolutely nothing underneath.

Harry eventually has enough and yanks the small boy over his lap for harsh spanks on his bottom, skirt lifted. After the spanking, Harry lets the skirt fall back but the material doesn’t even cover all the red marks, the perky bottoms of Louis’ cheeks still peeking, now adorned with handprints.

When Harry finally fucks him, he removes all of his clothes except the skirt then drives in doggy-style. Harry makes him get off from the friction caused by Louis rubbing his little prick pathetically into the garment until he dirties his previously clean, pretty skirt like a messy pup.

It doesn’t stay pristine from the back either because Harry shoots his load and rubs it in until the skirt is just as wrecked as its owner, damp spots of cum littering the outside and Louis’ wet hole leaking to ruin the inside slowly.

-

One afternoon, Harry is mindlessly strumming his guitar when there’s a knock on the door. He never gets unexpected guests since moving here so he has no idea who it is. He answers it to find Louis with red rimmed eyes and trembly lips.

“Baby, what’s wrong?” Harry immediately reacts with concern, pulling Louis’ tiny body in for a tight hug. “Lou, tell me.”

Louis doesn’t say anything at first but he does seem to really need Harry’s presence. Waiting for him to calm down enough to talk, Harry shuts the front door and moves them both to his mattress. He hasn’t made it so it’s a mess of blankets but he doubts Louis will mind.

Harry continues to hold Louis and stroke at his back, pressing occasional light but firm kisses into his fluffy hair.

“S’stupid,” Louis finally mumbles.

“I’m sure it’s not, love,” Harry says. “If it’s got you this upset, it must be something. You know I’m always on your side, baby, so just tell me, okay?”

Louis sighs. “I was tidying up after the kids and I found these papers,” Louis begins explaining. “I read them to see if they were rubbish to throw away or not and they were booking documents. For a holiday to America in the half term. For two adults and six kids.”

Harry processed the information before his breath hitches.

“What? Are you sure?” Harry asks, confused. “And nobody said anything to you?”

Louis sniffles then lets out a deprecating half chuckle. “I read over it like five times. And nope, nobody said anything. We haven’t gone on a proper holiday in years, you know.”

“But how can they just leave you out like that?” Harry feels his blood boil at the thought of Louis’ own family going behind his back after everything the boy has done for them.

“I think they’ve assumed I’ll be off at uni by then or like, wishful thinking, and they jumped at the first chance to get away from me,” Louis says, almost monotonous.

“No, baby, I’m sure that’s not it,” Harry tries to comfort him. “Maybe you should talk to your mum, it’s probably a mistake.”

“S’not,” Louis’ deflated tone tells him. “Ever since she married my step dad and they started having little ones, I’ve stuck out like a sore thumb. I take up space, drain their money, waste them time. Without me, they’d be the perfect family.”

“Hey, that’s not true,” Harry argues. “You’re like a rock in the house, always helping out.”

Louis snorts. “Doesn’t matter.” He takes a deep breath, closing his eyes. “I’m being selfish anyway. My parents work really hard and they deserve a break. And God knows the kids would love a holiday.”

Harry frowns. “You do, too.”

Louis doesn’t say anything, just leans his bodyweight into Harry with his eyes still shut as if he’s too fragile to do much else.

“Look, I’m serious.” Harry nudges him and gently grabs his shoulders to sit him up until they’re facing each other. “You do a lot around your house, cooking, cleaning and watching the kids. And you’ve been working so hard on school, I always see you with your books when you come over. And you haven’t gotten in trouble in weeks. I know all of that isn’t easy.”

“I guess,” Louis replies reluctantly.

“No, it’s the truth,” Harry assures him. Then an idea comes to mind. “In fact, yeah, you deserve a break more than anyone.”

Harry gets up and starts looking around for his duffel bag.

 

“What are you doing?” Louis asks.

“America in the middle of October sounds rubbish anyway,” Harry says, spotting his bag shoved to the back of a cupboard. “We’ll go somewhere now. I’ll drive us and we can go for the whole weekend, just you and I.”

“Harry…” Louis sounds unsure. “Can we really do that?”

Harry drops the bag to come back over to the mattress where he kneels on the floor in front of Louis then takes the younger’s hands into his.

“We can do what we want. I won’t have you sitting around being sad when we can go out and make memories and be carefree,” Harry tells him, looking straight into his gorgeous blue eyes. “You don’t ever have to worry with me, okay? I’ll take care of you, always.”

Louis blushes and Harry swears he can hear angels singing when the boy cracks a small smile.

“So will you please, please go on a stupid adventure with me?” Harry pleads, grinning.

“Yeah, okay.”

Harry whoops before lifting Louis clean off the mattress and swinging him around.

“Let me go, you oaf,” Louis laughs wetly, smacking at Harry’s shoulders.

Harry concedes and gently places Louis back on solid ground, leaving him a kiss on his forehead.

“I don’t have stuff, would I need to go to mine?” Louis asks, suddenly nibbling his bottom lip with worry.

“No, we’re being spontaneous,” Harry replies.

“Oh so you’re allowed to pack stuff and I’m, what, staying in this all weekend?” Louis questions, gesturing to his skinny jeans and white jumper.

“Or you could go naked for the weekend, I wouldn’t mind,” Harry says.

“Piss off, you perv,” Louis reprimands, crossing his arms in contempt.

“You can wear my clothes,” Harry gives in. “And we’ll stop off on the way for toiletries and that. Come on, Lou, the whole point is to leave everything behind and run away for a bit.”

“Okay, fine,” Louis says.

They spend about forty five minutes getting together some clothes and other bits they might need. Most of what Harry packs gets taken out and replaced by whatever Louis deems more appropriate. When they’ve got a sufficiently stuffed bag, Harry slings it over his shoulder, grabs Louis’ hand and heads out for the road.

-

Driving aimlessly seems to be the plan for a good hour or two. Rolling along the motorway is so smooth that it’s lulling, especially with old pop music playing through the stereo and the sky overhead a nice, cool grey. Louis makes them stop off at a gas station within the first half an hour because apparently, it’s not a road trip without snacks so Harry fills the tank after handing Louis his wallet to get what he wants from the store.

The boy is quite literally like a kid in a candy shop, clambering back into the car with a plastic bag almost overspilling with food. They gorge themselves on sharing bags of salt and vinegar crisps, sour sweets and variety packs of chocolate. All of it gets washed down with a Coke for Harry and strawberry milk for Louis because he’s an actual baby.

Harry veers them into country lanes after having had enough of the busy roads. They get a chance to take in beautiful greenery and sweet little cottages as Harry bumps his car all over the nooks and crannies he comes across.

After a while, though, they decide it’s probably time to find an actual place to stop and stay. Louis gets the maps up on his phone and they navigate the closest spots to where they’ve ended up after the mindless journey so far. They eventually settle for a nearby seaside town because the pictures look pretty and the reviews from tourists are mostly positive.

The drive over isn’t too long so when they get there just after sundown, they find a quaint bed and breakfast to rest at.

-

“Harry, get the fuck up.”

Harry blinks his eyes open, immediately uncomfortable with all of the light streaming into them. He’s also uncomfortable with the weight straddling him and the hand slapping him awake.

“Baby,” Harry groans incoherently.

“Don’t ‘baby’ me,” Louis scoffs. “You promised me an adventure so let’s go.”

“Okay, okay,” Harry surrenders. “I’m up. Just let me brush my teeth and dress.”

He stumbles up off the cushy bed, scratching at his bare stomach and wandering into the ensuite. He makes as quick work as possible of his morning routine, not wanting to keep his bratty boy waiting, then comes back out feeling a lot more refreshed.

Before he dresses himself, he takes a moment to give Louis a once over, taking in his little body drowning in one of Harry’s t-shirts that’s practically sheer. He goes over, still clad in only his boxers, to where the boy is perched on the bed.

“You’re so gorgeous,” Harry states, reaching out for a touch.

“Not happening,” Louis shoots him down. “If you hurry, we can make it downstairs for breakfast. And then we can have a look around the town, go to the beach. Lots to do so no time for sex, pal.”

Harry groans. “Not even a quick blowjob?”

“Nope.”

“But...my morning wood,” Harry pouts, looking down at his crotch. “Poor thing could really do with some love.”

“Too bad,” Louis says. “Now hurry up and get dressed already! Your dick isn’t gonna fall off just because I don’t touch it for a few hours.”

Harry huffs, accepting that he’s really not getting any, before turning to his duffel bag to grab clothes. “It might.”

“You’re so annoying,” Louis rolls his eyes.

“Yeah but you’re the one who’s with me so,” Harry rebuts, pulling a shirt over his head.

“Don’t know why.”

“Well if you had just let me show you a minute ago…”

Louis cracks a giggle and throws a pillow at Harry’s head as he’s pulling his trousers on.

“Alright, alright, I’m done, come on,” Harry says, rushing over to slip his shoes on then pocket everything he’ll need for the day. “Let’s get you your breakfast, princess.”

-

The first thing on their agenda is a market nearby. They’re going off of a TripAdviser page’s recommendations and the town being picturesque and hidden away is perfect because there are only a small handful of attractions, meaning that they can hit all the important ones during their short stay and everything is within walking distance so they can enjoy their time at a leisurely pace.

The market is actually a decent size, nothing crazy like ones Harry has visited in London but good enough to hold a variety of stalls selling all kinds of stuff. It’s a bit of a mish mash with stalls clearly set up to attract tourists by displaying quirky trinkets flowing into regular stalls for locals in need of food, clothes and other bits and bobs. Harry finds it charming.

It also packs quite a crowd even though the peak summer season isn’t yet in sight but Harry enjoys the bustle and any excuse to hold Louis’ small hand tightly in his.

“Would you gents like to try some of our special chilli jams? They’re homemade,” a man offers as they walk by his stall.

“Yeah, okay,” Louis smiles at him politely.

According to the man, his business sells chilli preserves in varying degrees of heat from sweet and mild all the way up to scorching hot. Him and Louis taste a few moderate ones with the cheese and crackers offered. Everything is fine until Harry decides to try and impress Louis by taking the guy up on his offer to sample the spiciest jar. Needless to say, he doesn’t impress and instead, causes Louis to have a laughing fit at his extreme reaction to the heat. He literally thinks he’ll die from the burn and apparently, turns an alarming shade of red until the poor stall owner finds him a few bottles of water to chug.

They pass up free samples for the rest of their time there.

-

Of course, the main attraction when visiting a seaside town is, well, the sea. But it’s England and it’s only just the beginning of spring so to actually go into the ocean is almost a death wish. That doesn’t, however, stop them from going to the beach. British people have perfected the craft of enjoying a nice beach without the typical seaside activities.

They take a stroll down the boardwalk, letting the salty breeze blow over their faces. It’s not even that chilly but Louis manages to steal Harry’s coat five minutes into their walk. He looks so cute with his hands hidden away by the long sleeves that Harry doesn’t mind.

Apparently, Louis used to go to the beach a lot as a child and being here brings those memories to surface.

“We lived in the tiniest house, like literally the garden was basically a box, and I was the most hyper kid ever,” Louis explains. “So as soon as it got sunny my mum would take me to the beach because there’s loads of space to run around. Or she’d take me to a park or something. She’d pack us chocolate sandwiches and we’d play for ages until I was too sleepy. I didn’t have siblings for years, I know that’s hard to imagine now, so my mum would play with me whenever she could. She used to always say that I was her best friend.”

Harry watches Louis tell his story, taking in the small boy’s sweet smile as he recalls these memories.

“I bet you were really cute as a kid,” Harry says, imagining Louis as a little baby with all his current features but miniature.

Louis giggles. “My mum told me that I’d sit in my buggy and wave at people, shouting ‘hiya have a good day’.”

Harry’s heart melts. “That’s adorable.”

“Okay but you have these curls so you were probably way cuter,” Louis says, reaching out to pet Harry’s hair.

“Actually, my curls didn’t come in until later,” Harry corrects. “When I was really little, I had straight bowl cuts. And all my features were buggy so I looked pretty weird.”

“Shut up, no you didn’t,” Louis laughs.

“I swear, I did,” Harry insists. “I know that seems impossible looking at me now.”

“You’re insufferable,” Louis huffs.

Harry laughs. “I know, thank you so much for putting up with me, babe.” He scoops Louis under his arms for an impromptu cuddle, making the younger smile.

“I deserve a medal.”

“How about some chips instead?” Harry offers, spotting a fish and chip shop ahead.

“Deal.”

They get cones of chips doused with salt and vinegar, sitting on a bench overlooking the water with their legs crossed to eat them. For some reason, the seagulls are only interested in trying to steal Harry’s chips, much to Louis’ delight. After surviving the near attacks and finishing the food, Louis insists they need something sweet after all the salt so even though it’s cloudy and gushing with wind, they end up sharing a 99 ice cream.

-

The best part of the day is when they go to the pier as evening settles. It was the most beautiful place according to the pictures they saw online and probably the reason they chose this town for their adventure.

It sits well into the sea, held above the water by planks of wood, and is packed with rides, stalls, games and people. As they walk towards it during sunset, all of the colourful lights glower extra brightly to enhance the area’s silhouette against the tranquil backdrop of ocean water.

They beeline for the games first, Harry determined to win one of the cuddly toys for Louis and Louis eager to watch Harry flop because of his poor coordination.

“Have some faith,” Harry says as he accepts multi coloured rings from the vendor.

“I would but you’ve missed every time you’ve tried to throw rubbish in the bin since I’ve met you so,” Louis shrugs, cutely stuffing his hands into the pockets of Harry’s jacket and shrinking his body inwards to combat the cold.

“This is different!” Harry protests.

“Okay, we’ll see,” Louis says.

They end up seeing how awful Harry is at the ring toss. Despite having nearly five goes, the bottles lined up are apparently allergic to the rings Harry is throwing.

And so they move onto skee ball which Harry does even worse at. Then they try a shooting game, by which point Harry might as well be chucking his money away.

“Look!” Louis exclaims after another failed game. Harry glances over at what Louis is pointing at to discover a huge, white teddy bear with a ribbon around its neck tied up into a bow. “Okay, that one I want.”

“You’re such a diva.” Harry rolls his eyes. So far, the prizes have been quite average and definitely not worth all of this hard work. But, admittedly, this bear is impressive and would probably tower over Louis’ little frame.

“But it’s one of those Costco bears!” Louis proclaims. “I could fit on it without even spilling over!”

Okay, maybe that is a really, really adorable image. Harry now desperately wants to see his boy curling up on a fluffy bear, sleepy and sweet.

“Fine,” Harry gives in. “What’s the game?”

It turns out to be axe throwing. How they manage to have axe throwing on a pier is unknown to Harry but he’s willing to give it a go. They wait in a short line and he watches a couple of men attempt it. Most of them land their axes way off but one guy gets close enough to win a keychain so he guesses it can’t be that rigged.

Eventually, Harry’s turn arrives and he gets in position with all the safety gear on. He takes his axe and stares at the target, doing his best to focus and work out the best angle. When he finally throws it with a firm grip, he doesn’t expect much so it’s a surprise when he hears Louis whoop from the sideline.

He looks over to find that his axe is piercing through the bullseye.

The person running the stall congratulates him half heartedly as he thrusts the giant bear into his arms.

“You did it! You actually did it!” Louis grins as Harry leaves the caged area.

“Guess I did,” Harry says. He then smiles and hands the bear over to Louis who hugs it close to his pleased face. “Here’s your prize, as promised.”

“Thank you,” Louis tells him.

Harry steps back to hold him from behind and press a kiss to the back of his neck, scenting the fragrant warmth Louis’ skin holds.

“You know, you were pretty hot back there,” Louis says with Harry’s face ducked close to his.

“Oh yeah?” Harry smirks, still wrapped around Louis’ body.

“Mm, you were concentrating really hard and, I don’t know, throwing a whole axe around like it was nothing.” Louis has his eyes glued to his teddy and blushes through his confession.

“You liked that?” Harry asks, pressing himself into the boy.

“Just realised how strong you are,” Louis murmurs.

Harry kisses Louis’ red cheeks and holds him for a moment, thinking about other ways he could showcase his strength if it’s such a turn on.

They snap themselves out of it when a rowdy group of people stumble past them causing a ruckus. By this point, they remember that they still need to visit the main attraction; the ferris wheel.

It’s quite impressive despite this only being a small town pier, the ride stretching far up into the starry sky. For that reason, the long queue is expected so they patiently wait and chatter amongst others.

They get to the front and purchase a ticket to squeeze onto a carriage with their giant prize. Harry doesn’t mind, quite likes that Louis is practically in his lap because of the tight space left for them.

As cliché as it is, Harry swings an arm around Louis as the ride locks them in place and steadily rotates them upwards. They’re able to see the busy pier under them slowly become ant-like in size, swarming around dots of light. The further up they are, the more their focus draws on the sea and sky. Despite the darkness, their eyes adjust until the gently ripples of water become crystal clear and every star pops out into individual shapes in its myriad.

When they reach the top, it really feels like another realm, just for a second. And the only constellation Harry can see is the triangle of freckles adorning Louis’ supple complexion.

He absentmindedly traces them with the pad of his thumb, making Louis look up at him with a slack mouth and wide eyes. Harry replaces his thumb with a light press of lips that linger over the spot until they travel to the neighbouring pink mouth. He kisses Louis with conviction, caught up in a surreal moment of scenic romance. They spend the descent in that kiss.

Back on ground, the ride operator gives them a knowing look as they pull themselves together after breaking apart. They leave the ride feeling a bit bashful, both softened by the silent yet meaningful experience they shared.

Food comes to the rescue, though, because they realise it’s time for some dinner to round the evening off.

There’s a huge deck centred amongst the rides and stalls selling hot food and drinks and providing what must be a hundred seats in the form of wooden benches. Strings of fairy lights adorn the roof over it, resulting in a cosy hub amidst a cold night.

They manage to find a table and Harry orders himself a burger, Louis a hotdog, respective Bailey’s hot chocolates and chips to share. The bustle of such a popular place burns away the quiet reservation and they’re back to chatting each other’s ears off as they eat.

Louis looks obscene taking on a grilled frankfurt sausage longer than his face, swallowing it down like a champ, but Harry only stares briefly and says nothing. It turns out more funny than sexy anyway when Louis is left with sauce all over him and Harry has to dab it all away with a napkin.

They finish their meals off and Harry kisses the creamy liquor and chocolate right off Louis’ tongue before they head back to the bed and breakfast.

Harry strips down and lays on the bed, a bit exhausted from the long day. His eyes blink heavily and he’s vaguely aware of entering into that time at night where it’s late enough that the world feels static and hued with blue darkness.

And then he feels a warm, naked body crawl up his front. He’s got lips grazing him and hands stroking away at various body parts, all of it perfectly pairing with his hazy state.

“Need to thank you,” he hears whispered into his ear.

He ignores it for a moment because his half-hard cock starts getting fondled through his boxers. But then he snaps his eyes open and instinctively halts what’s happening below his waist.

“Louis, you don’t owe me anything,” Harry says firmly, searching Louis’ eyes in the dim room.

“I know,” Louis replies, except he sounds like he doesn’t know.

“Baby, when we’re together or when I do something for you, that’s it,” Harry reaches for the boy’s chin. “This relationship, and maybe all relationships, can never be fifty, fifty. We do what we feel like doing and we do it with no expectations, okay? I know you were down and I wanted to bring you here and spend time having fun.”

Louis doesn’t say anything.

“I wanna be good for you,” he eventually mumbles.

“You are,” Harry rushes to say. “You’re always good. But I don’t ever want to take advantage of you.”

“You don’t,” Louis finally meets his eye properly. “You’re the only person who doesn’t, ever.”

Hearing that feels so fucking good. Harry has developed this insatiable need to protect Louis, to make him happy. He’s buzzing all over from indication that he’s on his way to succeeding.

“How do you feel around me?” Harry can’t get enough of it.

“I feel nice,” Louis says wetly. “Feel small but in a good way. I’ve felt small a lot in my life and it’s usually shitty. I don’t know, just that, I think with you it’s lovely to be taken over.”

“Well you’re not small,” Harry argues because he needs Louis to know that for the boy’s sanity. But there are other connotations to what Louis just said and it’s making blood rush down his body.

“Am I not?”

“No,” Harry grits out because Louis is still on top of him and he’s started getting wriggly.

“Even when I’m easy to hold down?”

Harry shuts his eyes and feels his nostrils flare.

“Even though I get stuffed full with just the tip?”

“Lou,” Harry warns.

“Thank you for saying all of that and for making sure we’re okay,” Louis pauses to say sincerely. “I still want sex, though. Is that alright, daddy?”

It’s probably more than alright considering they’ve both been getting progressively wet throughout the conversation. So Harry doesn’t say anything, opting to accept Louis’ deep kiss and slide them together. Just knowing and feeling how much Louis wants to be fucked has Harry’s massaging of his arse cheeks roughening until he’s essentially tearing them apart with his thumbs and wishing he could put it in right now.

“Lemme find lube,” Louis says into Harry’s mouth.

He tumbles off of Harry and the bed, heading for their bags. Harry’s eyes couldn’t leave him for anything in the moment. They follow him, sees the naked figure get on his knees then bend to open the bag and search inside it. It’s so plump and Harry was working it up nicely to take his cock. This little break might disrupt all that hard work.

That train of thought is how Harry finds himself kneeling behind Louis and surprising the boy with an arm around his midriff and a leaking dick rubbing up and down his cheeks.

“Harry, you could’ve just given me a minute,” Louis huffs as if he’s annoyed. Harry knows better though.

He reaches for the lube himself and slicks up Louis’ hole right there before spreading some over his cock.

“Are you good, baby?” Harry pants into the nape of Louis’ neck, feeling frantic as he spreads the boy with intent.

Louis whimpers like he’s helpless and Harry loves the act. Loves that Louis is begging for his cock, that he would literally beg for it if Harry made him. He’s well beyond the blushing virgin but they both like the idea.

“M’just gonna pop it in now, alright, darling?” Harry begins to enter, breathless as he does so. “Just stay still for me.”

He might be trying to do as he’s told but Harry can feel him squirm as he bottoms out. On his knees, slightly bent.

As dirty as the image is, Harry doesn’t enjoy the position too much. His thrusts aren’t as satisfying and he fears they’re both getting carpet burns on their knees. So he hauls Louis up, still impaled on his member, and moves them back over to the bed.

“Oh, God!” Louis squeals as he gets jostled and carried.

Harry separates them to toss Louis onto the bed, watches with dark eyes as the boy lands on his bum and scrambles up using his hands that are clutching at the sheets, teeth biting his bottom lip.

Harry doesn’t hesitate to pull his legs open and get back inside.

He fucks Louis right into the headboard, driven completely by the pleasure. Most of the time, he’s just staring at Louis’ gorgeous, strained face and slamming his hips back and forth.

“You’re so beautiful,” Harry says, more voicing his thoughts than anything else. “Prettiest baby I’ve ever seen. Take it so well.”

Harry knows that Louis is close. So he slows down and deepens his thrusts, leaning in to suckle at the boy’s small, sensitive nipples. While he’s down there, working over the nubs and enjoying Louis’ gasping noises, he feels cum splatter against his front and smiles.

“Good boy,” he praises, rising to stroke Louis’ blissed out face. “Now, are you gonna let me fill you up? Show you how much I adore you?”

Louis nods up at him and Harry can see him clenching his jaw because of the oversensitivity.

He should be fine though as Harry only goes for about another five minutes before he empties himself into the swollen hole.

He moans loudly when he does, closing his eyes and clutching at Louis’ soft skin. He can’t believe how lucky he got to land a boy always willing to let him do this, no questions asked. Not that he has any reasons to since Harry hasn’t even thought about another person since he laid eyes on Louis.

-

Their impromptu getaway was bliss and it does nothing but make Harry even happier after they return home. Days away with just them, connecting and being carefree in each other’s company, made that growing place Harry has for Louis in his heart bigger than ever. Dropping the boy off at his family’s house was unbearable and Harry might be dramatic but he could’ve lingered in their parting kiss for hours more.

Harry settles back into his routine of work, home, and being smitten with Louis. Somewhere amongst that, his uncle asks him to help with a big food shop that needs to be done for his little cousin’s birthday party so Harry agrees to it, finding himself lugged with a giant trolley filled to the brim outside Asda.

And if only they could just get going but apparently, Paul insists on reading through the receipt before loading the car in case any mistakes were made. Harry just leans against the trolley, chin in palm, listening to his uncle drone on.

He snaps out of his daydream when he spots Louis with his four youngest siblings, all heading into the store. He looks so beautiful, just in sweats and carrying his baby sister while the others totter along close to his ankles. It makes Harry immediately smile and want to go over and say hi.

“No surprises there,” Paul snorts, interrupting Harry’s thoughts. “A boy like that coming from a certain type of family. They’ve probably all got different dads, rolling in benefits. Trash, the lot of them.”

Harry barely has time to register what his uncle says. It’s like he can play the whole thing out in slow motion, Louis and his siblings passing by and picking up on exactly what nasty words are being said about them, Harry unable to get anything out due to shock and embarrassment, Paul giving him a hearty slap on the back as he laughs crudely, Louis’ hurt expression.

It’s not fair at all that Harry has less than seconds to do anything even close to rescuing the God-awful situation. By the time Louis has gone into the shop without looking back and Paul has returned to scrutinising the receipt, the moment is over and Harry knows he’s fucked up. Big time.

And he should be angry at Paul but he’s too busy worrying about Louis. He mindlessly loads the car when finally prompted to, head reeling with how to fix this mess. He’s going to need to call Louis and grovel. Or should he run over to the store now to find him? But that would probably cause a scene and piss Louis off even more. But he can’t just leave it. Louis must be so upset and angry right now. He’s made it clear that Harry is the one person he can rely on yet he’s just witness someone cruelly insulting him and his family while Harry just stood there. Fuck. And he still hasn’t said anything. And now the car is driving off.

-

It seems about right and Louis has been ignoring all of Harry’s calls and texts. It goes on for a whole week and it drives Harry crazy because on one hand, it could just be a minor bout of anger that will go away soon but on the other, Louis could seriously be mad enough to end this. Without Louis’ side, there’s no bloody knowing which one it could be.

The only time he’ll definitely see his boyfriend will be at Church. Harry wants to laugh at how the place has become a strange meeting point for them. As he’s driving over, he unironically prays to God that Louis will at least speak to him when they come face to face.

The service proceeds as normal. Louis does come with his family but he doesn’t acknowledge Harry at all, much like the first of their church encounters. Harry is absolutely itching to interact with him in any way. His hope is on the end where he can quickly grab the boy for a chat or rather, a grovel for forgiveness.

That doesn’t happen because Louis darts out with his family as soon as physically possible. Harry deflates, not knowing what to do now, and stays in his seat as everyone filters out. He punches the pew in front of him in frustration and lets it swell in the empty church.

Then it sounds as if someone’s come in and Harry lazily turns only to find Louis there. His fringe is slowly wisping away from the gel. Harry could cry from how beautiful he is.

“Louis,” he acknowledges.

Louis pauses, looking right at him, before choosing not to reply. Instead, he wanders over to where he was sat to look down as if searching for something.

“Baby, please,” Harry stands up to beg. “I’m so, so sorry. Paul was out of line. Completely. And so was I. Please, Lou, talk to me.”

“My sister dropped her glove,” Louis says, eyes still trained to the ground.

“We’ll find it,” Harry rebuts. “But seriously, babe, you have to talk to me. Come on, I’ve missed you.”

Louis stills before he speaks, “It hurt me when you stood there with a man who looks down on me and belittles me,”.

“I know, sweetheart, I’m sorry,” Harry rushes to say.

Louis sits himself down. Tentatively, Harry joins him.

“M’mad at you,” Louis murmurs.

“I’m mad at me too.”

“You hurt me.”

“I know.”

Finally, Louis turns to look at him. His blue eyes are glossy and while that stings, Harry is just happy to be with him again. He smiles at the boy, wants to reach out and touch.

“Hate that I can’t resist that,” Louis admits, eyes and thumb flittering to Harry’s right dimple.

“Then don’t,” Harry suggests quietly, slowly leaning in.

They kiss, shyly reacquainting themselves to each other. Harry kisses and kisses Louis, getting increasingly needy as the feeling of it shocks his system after days apart. He’s not even mindful of pressing the boy down until Louis squirming underneath his body, laid flat on his back.

“Harry,”

Louis should learn not to say Harry’s name like that, all breathy and sumptuous. It’s just cause for Harry to dive back in.

As they carry on their reckless fumbling in the back of the church, voices and footsteps begin to filter in. They realise with alarm that the vicar along with somebody else has returned.

Harry clamps his mouth shut, keeping himself down as much as possible, and attempts to also shield Louis. He can feel both of their hearts drumming heavily. If they were to get caught, the humiliation would be unfathomable, especially for Louis and his family.

Thankfully, they leave after a while. Harry and Louis sit up once they deem the coast to be clear, straightening out their rumpled clothes.

“We have to stop doing that,” Louis shakes his head.

Harry starts to laugh, far enough out of danger now to see the funny side of it. He’s beyond relieved when Louis begins giggling along.

When they calm themselves down enough, Harry looks at Louis dead in the eyes.

“I don’t agree with anything Paul said,” he speaks with certainty. “And neither would any of my other family and friends. He’s crazy and completely alone with his ignorance and arsehole-ness.”

Louis smiles at Harry’s choice word.

“Baby, come to Holmes Chapel with me. You can meet my mum and see for yourself how much she’s going to love you,” Harry adds.

“Meeting your mum?” Louis bites his lip cutely. “You think you want that, like, with me?”

“I know I do,” Harry assures him. “I’m so serious about you, Louis.”

Louis seems happily surprised by that.

“Okay, yeah,” he agrees eventually.

Harry grins and wraps Louis into a hug. His mum adoring Louis will fix this whole thing.

-

They have to wait about two weeks before they can actually make the trip to see Harry’s mum. Everyone has a schedule and Harry wants the meeting to be as smooth as possible. He rarely brings anyone back to meet his family, probably because his young age which equates to lack of past serious relationships, but he really thinks it’s important for Louis to be as integrated into his life as possible. Months have passed since they started seeing each other and Harry is starting to really believe in a future for them, albeit a blurry one right now.

The plan is to drive to Holmes Chapel on Saturday and have a roast cooked by his mum, stay the night, then come home on Sunday. Harry specifically made sure to tell his mum to make chicken and to cut the potatoes in small chunks because he’s learned that that’s what Louis likes.

“Is it the house you grew up in?” Louis asks from the passenger seat as they drive through the traffic.

“Yep,” Harry answers. “It’s been the exact same house since I was born up until now. I kind of hope my mum will just stay there forever so I can always go back and feel that comfort.”

Louis hums in reply.

Harry reaches out to take his small hand across the console. “Don’t even think about being nervous,”. He brings the hand up to kiss lightly, eyes still on the road ahead.

“I can’t help it,” Louis huffs. “Never had a boyfriend let alone meet one’s family.”

“She’s just like me but prettier,” Harry jokes.

“Not hard to be,” Louis snipes.

“Heeey,” Harry pouts.

But the mood is lifted and from then on, Harry does his best to keep the atmosphere light.

They arrive late in the afternoon and Harry grabs all their bags from the boot before guiding Louis over to the front door. He knocks and waits for his mum to open.

“Hi, darling,” she greets him with a kiss on the cheek before turning to Louis. “And you must be Louis! Come on in.”

They file into the warmth of Harry’s childhood home, slightly crowded in the hallway before arriving in the open kitchen area. Along the way, Harry leaves their bags by the stairs and now, as they stand around the kitchen island, he wraps an arm protectively around Louis.

“I’ll make you boys a cuppa, alright?” his mum smiles at them then bustles around getting the kettle on.

Harry squeezes Louis’ hip and guides him to sit on the stools as he initiates conversation with his mum. Louis is quiet while they talk about the trip over and the weather but he starts to chime in more by the time the teas are ready.

They all chat casually but soon, it’s time to get food prepped for the roast they’re having for dinner. Harry helps through adopting the flow of the kitchen that he’s grown accustomed to over the years, peeling vegetables and making awful jokes. Louis tries, clearly in an attempt to impress his mum, but he’s rubbish with cooking as always. Harry lets him help a little with whatever he’s doing so that he doesn’t feel out of place but his main role of the afternoon is being gently interrogated by Harry’s mum.

He’s holding his own though because Harry can tell that his mum likes Louis. The boy has such a dry sense of humour, mixed in with a warm, open personality, that it’s not difficult to grow fond of him.

They end up having a perfect time, in Harry’s opinion. Everyone gets on and Louis’ nerves have calmed down. They talk and eat and well, Harry thinks it’s the best feeling to have the most important people in his life in one place and getting along.

When it’s late, they head up to his old bedroom and Louis hops into the shower, leaving Harry to change into his PJs and run back down to the kitchen.

“What are you doing down here, love? I thought you and Louis went to bed already,” his mum greets him as she’s clearing up the last bit of mess in the kitchen.

“Oh I’m just making Lou his tea,” Harry answers, heading for the cabinets to pull out a mug.

“Tea before bed?” his mum questions curiously.

“Yeah, I think maybe that’s the reason that he talks in his sleep but I don’t mind. I think it comforts him,” Harry replies as he fills the kettle with water.

There’s a slight pause while waiting for it to boil but his mum doesn’t seem like she’s making her way out.

“You love him,” she says after a while.

“Um,” Harry frowns. “I don’t know.”

“That’s okay, sweetheart,” she smiles, rubbing his shoulder. “But if you do love him, it’s a good thing. Forget about all the stuff going on with your uncle. And if I hated him, which I don’t, forget about that too. I know how you worry and maybe your practical head is kicking in about age and things like that but I have to tell you, honey, love is always a good thing.”

Harry chews his lip in consideration.

“No, I know,” he decides. “Just a bit scary, you know.”

His mum laughs.

“Yes but a wonderful scary,” she says. “Especially with a lovely boy like that.”

“He really is, isn’t he?” Harry can’t help but grin.

His mum tuts then closes her eyes as she nods at him. “He’s beautiful.”

Harry smiles wide and proud at that.

Before the tea can cool, he kisses his mum goodnight and heads back up to Louis and cuddles him while he sips his drink.

“Do you think I did okay?” Louis asks him.

“You did amazingly,” Harry reassures him with a kiss.

That seems to please Louis because he doesn’t press any further. He does, however, dart his eyes around the room as they sit quietly. Harry tries not to worry that his gorgeous boyfriend is probably realising that he was a dorky kid just from the state of his old bedroom.

“So, what did young Harry used to get up to in here then?” Louis asks.

“Well,” Harry pretends to think long and hard. “A lot of important business went on in here. Lots of computer games, getting yelled at by my sister, agonising over maths homework.”

“I see,” Louis nods as he places his empty mug on the bedside table. “Anything else? Particularly in this bed?”

Louis turns to face Harry directly, body on top of his lap, and Harry swallows.

“Uh, well,” he coughs. “You know what teenage boys do.”

“Do I?” Louis grins. “Wanna elaborate, Harold?”

“Lou,” Harry groans.

“Was it naughty stuff?” Louis runs his little fingers up Harry’s heaving chest. “What did you think about? Or look at?”

Maybe it’s something to do with being in his childhood bedroom that has Harry flustered so easily. Like any other young person, he’d fantasise about all kinds of things and let’s just say that a boy who looks like Louis whispering sexy stuff into his ear and touching his body would’ve been incomprehensible to an awkward, gangly boy.

“Just, um, usual stuff,” Harry tells him.

“Well let’s say you were a teenager again, in this very room, and it’s late,” Louis starts walking him through whatever this is. “And you want to get off but you want it to feel extra good…”

Louis’ breath is fanning all over Harry’s shirtless front and he’s tenting at a very fast rate.

“Then I’d probably watch something on my laptop,” Harry supplies thickly.

“Mmm,” Louis begins rolling his hips, wearing nothing but his boxers and Harry’s t-shirt. “And what would you watch? Girls?”

Harry is mostly gay but during the early days, yeah, it was definitely girls that he watched.

“Yeah,” he answers. “But, uh, not if I wanted to feel extra good.”

Harry is blushing like crazy reliving those awkward memories.

“Oh?” Louis quirks a brow. “So you’d watch boys?”

Louis leans in to start suckling on Harry’s pulses, hips still gyrating sensually.

“Yes.”

“And what were they like? Muscular? Hung?” Louis asks his earshell.

“Sometimes.”

“Or,” Louis leans back to steadily pull his top off. “Were they twinky? Pretty boys who were really slutty for the camera and guys like you?”

Harry has to clench his eyes shut because he’s hit the nail on the head. Watching that type of porn was definitely a favourite of his.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Harry can hear the smirk in Louis’ voice.

“I think we should give teenage Harry a treat, indulge him tonight,” Louis says and Harry has never agreed with him more.

And God, the treat turns out to be one hell of a treat.

Louis strips all the way down and swiftly grabs lube to wet himself and Harry’s length, jerking the older off in the process. He’s sloppy with it and rubbing his plump bum needily as they move through the foreplay. Harry almost loses it when he bends down and starts to swallow around his balls, sucking messily. When he plops off, the heavy balls slip right up to the tempting crack of Louis’ arse and Harry is possibly deliriously imagining sinking in.

That thought can’t physically stick around for long because Louis lines himself up and sinks down onto Harry’s very erect cock. The smaller boy looks like an oil slicked mess as he hotly rides Harry like an actual pornstar. His hips are almost erratic as he loses himself in it, throwing his head back, closing his eyes and opening his mouth in silent screams.

“You’re so fucking hot,” Harry groans.

He doesn’t think Louis is even hearing him at this point. He continues riding like a champ until a moment where he jolts slightly and whimpers an ‘oh’, stopping any harsh movements. He must’ve positioned everything in a very good spot because he stays there and grinds like his life depends on it. His hole flutters as he stimulates his prostate continuously and then all of a sudden, his cockhead spurts out strips of white cum. When it happens, Harry is taken aback but Louis looks so shocked.

“Oh my God, what just happened?” Louis pants, reaching out his small hands to touch his still leaking head. His fingers get all messy and he looks so cutely overwhelmed from having just come untouched that Harry groans, dick still yet pulsing inside a tight hole, clenching from the orgasm.

Harry can’t stand the lack of friction any longer so he plants his feet on the mattress and fucks up roughly.

“Harry!” Louis yelps as the thrusts take him by surprise.

He has no time to adjust to it because Harry releases in seconds, hands grappling at Louis’ fleshy hips to ground such an intense orgasm.

-

With every milestone in their relationship, Harry finds himself getting more and more attached to Louis. And it should probably scare him but time moves fast and before they know it, they’ve been together for months. He probably wouldn’t even realise if it wasn’t for the fact that Louis is taking his final exams right now. His boyfriend is working so hard, making Harry proud as hell, and the only downside is that they don’t have as much free time together. He just constantly has to remind himself that by the start of summer, they have all the time in the world to do anything they want.

Still, it sucks when he’s resorted to accepting his uncle’s invitation to dinner because Louis is revising all weekend, again.

“And I’m telling you, that board is made up of idiots,” Harry manages to catch the tail-end of one of his uncle’s rants about work.

“That’s fine, Paul, but let’s talk about something else while we eat, okay?” his aunt Mel tries to politely cut him off. “Harry’s come around tonight, isn’t that nice? You don’t join us nearly enough these days, honey.”

“Yeah, sorry about that,” Harry gives them a sheepish smile as he pushes around peas on his plate. “I’ve been busy, I guess.”

“Well, that’s alright! It’s good for a young man to be busy!” Mel says. “What are you up to these days?”

“Mostly just work,” Harry replies.

“And are you seeing anyone?”

Harry is just about to give a short answer when he realises what the question is and who he’s with. He still hasn’t told Paul about Louis and it just feels like he’s left it far too long now, making everything awkward. Even now, as he’s taking time to think, everyone around the table is staring at him expectantly.

“Uh, actually,” he has no idea if this is a good call but he’s suddenly found a bit of courage to just come out with it. Who knows when he’ll get such a straightforward opportunity again to tell them? “I am.”

“Oh?”

Even Paul and his cousins are looking interested now.

“Well, who is it?” Mel asks.

“It’s uh, someone I met at the college.”

“Then I might know him, who is it?” Paul inquires.

“It’s Louis Tomlinson.”

There’s a beat of silence.

“Are you messing with me, son?” Paul frowns deeply.

“No, I’m not,” Harry says. “I’ve been dating him for a couple of months now.”

Paul looks like he’s taking a moment to consider, squinting his eyes and pursing his lips.

“Well, I think he’s bad news and I can’t say I approve,” he finally says. “A boy like that is only going to hold you back. I’m sure you’ll come to you senses, Harry, you’re a smart lad. You don’t want to be mixing with that sort of people.”

Hearing that makes Harry’s blood boil. While Paul goes back to eating his shepherd's pie, his appetite is long gone.

Mel nervously laughs to break the silence. “Honestly, Paul, you can be so judgemental sometimes. Does anyone need more juice?”

“You know what, Uncle Paul,” Harry can’t help but say. “I really think you should learn to keep your judgements to yourself.”

Harry firmly places his cutlery down and looks Paul dead in the eyes as his uncle blanches.

“Louis is kind, smart, and I’m sure more than what I deserve in a partner. I really think he’s sick to death of people like you treating him like crap,” Harry stands up. “I know I am. So until you find the decency to respect my boyfriend, don’t expect to see me again any time soon.”

He quickly thanks his aunt for the dinner and bids a goodbye to his cousins before he storms out of the house. Once he’s in his car, he starts to drive as fast as possible, adrenaline still high from his outburst.

He drives and drives through the evening roads, mind whirring about what just happened. It’s a lot of heightened feelings and he’s coming to terms with how protective he is over his boy. Even when he knows Louis wasn’t there to witness it, he feels the anger and hurt for him, wants nothing but to hold him close and keep him away from the bad. Right now, Louis is the only thing on his mind so it’s probably not that surprising that he ends up outside the boy’s house.

Harry quickly sends Louis a text to come outside, hoping he’s not being a complete nuisance.

“Hi, babe, what’s up?” Louis climbs into the car a few minutes later in sweats, looking a little worried.

“Nothing,” Harry shakes his head. “I know you’re revising but can we just go for a quick drive?”

“Yeah, okay,” Louis smiles warmly at him. “I could do with a break.”

So Harry drives off, a bit aimlessly at first, but he doesn’t want to keep Louis for too long so he decides on a place and heads there. It’s quiet and Harry uses that to not think until he’s pulling into the car park overlooking a local field.

“I love you.”

“Okay…” Louis doesn’t look displeased, just unsure.

“I just wanted you to know. And I want you carry on being amazing and reaching goals and doing what makes you happy because I really think you can do it all and well, anything really,” Harry pauses to breathe. “And if it’s okay, I want to be there with you when you do all of that. Maybe even look after you and you look after me? As in, build a life together, any life you want.”

“Harry, relax,” Louis says. Harry turns to look at him, a bit nervous to hear his response to that. “I love you, too. Everything you just said sounds good to me.”

Louis is grinning, maybe taking the piss out of Harry a tiny bit for being a dramatic lunatic there, but he’s on the same page and he looks beautiful so he’ll take it.

“Okay, that’s good,” Harry smiles widely. “If you just give me one kiss, I promise I’ll take you back home.”

Louis laughs, airy and perfect, before he leans in.

“You have a deal.”

-

After Louis finishes his exams, Harry drives him all around the country. He’s still set on that future they talked about so he doesn’t want to splash out and jeopardise it but they don’t need much to be deliriously happy. Louis’ happy with music from the stereo and fast food and Harry is happy with Louis.

There’s a niggle at the back of their minds about Louis’ impending results but they try their best to not think about it. That is until the actual day of their release but they didn’t have to worry because he did well and doesn’t have to go back to school.

It frees them up completely to get the cramped flat in London that they want. Louis really wants to explore all kinds of things, indulge his passions and back himself in everything he tries his hand at. Harry wants to see where he can take his music, knowing that teaching at a dingy college semi-regularly is not the extent of his ambitions.

They’re so young and they’re brimming with all these desires to experience a bit of everything they can imagine and it’s ten times less scary and a hundred times more wonderful to be in it together.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Let me know what you think x
> 
> Reblog my [fic post](http://darlou.tumblr.com/post/183126357963/middle-ground-its-like-all-week-harry-is-a) and rt my [tweet](https://twitter.com/sweetumsao3/status/1101255579748761600?s=21) if you can!


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